&  5 


FRED  MITCHELL'S 
WAR  STORY 


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in  2007  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


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,    '     )      ■>    ,    ,     -1 


THE  AUTHOR 


Fred  Mitchell's 
War  Story 

THREE    YEARS 
IN  THE  WAR  ZONE 


BY 

\ 

Frederick  Mitchell 


ILLLUSTRATED 


NEW  YORK 

Alfred  •  A  •  Knopf 

1918 


COPYRIGHT,   1918,  BY     ''^     "^     ^ 
FREDERICK  MITCHELL      V\  35^ 


PRINTED    IN    THE    UNITED    STATES    OF    AMERICA 


l'-> 

^ 


I  DEDICATE  THIS  BOOK 
TO 

THE  MOTHERS  AND  CHILDREN 
OF  FRANCE 

Who  have  suffered  untold  agonies  at  the  hands 

of  the  so-called  German  Kulturists  and 

trust  that  it  may  be  the  means  of 

bringing  a  little  hope  and  joy 

into  their  hearts  through 

the  restoration  of 

their  homes. 


PREFACE 

My  chief  object  in  bringing  out  this  volume  of  my 
experiences  during  the  early  part  of  the  war  has  been 
to  convey  to  American  readers  a  true  idea  of  what 
non-combatants  in  the  invaded  country,  as  well  as 
close  to  the  battle  lines,  were  compelled  to  undergo. 

There  has  also  been  a  wish  on  my  part  that  this 
book  may  help  me  in  bringing  some  slight  measure  of 
relief  to  many  little  orphans,  most  of  whose  parents  I 
once  knew,  and  to  older  but  just  as  helpless  sufferers. 

I  vouch  for  the  truth  of  everything  I  relate.  It 
will  be  observed  that  these  pages  contain  very  little 
that  is  based  on  hearsay  evidence.  Nearly  every- 
thing in  them  is  the  result  of  personal  observation, 
purchased  at  a  heavy  cost  in  the  way  of  danger  and 
hardship. 

My  happiness  will  be  great  if  I  can  help  a  little  to 
bring  about  a  true  realization  of  the  menace  which 
the  German  Empire,  as  at  present  constituted,  is  to 
the  rest  of  humanity,  and  how  absolutely  necessary  it 
is  that  its  crushing  power  should  be  for  ever  broken. 

Fred  Mitchell. 


CONTENTS 

PAOS 

I  The  Breaking  of  the  Storm   ^  13 

II  The  Coming  of  the  Tidal  Wave  26 

III  The  Huns  are  on  Us  40 

IV  Learning  a  New  Trade  52 
V  I  Become  a  Jack  of  All  Trades  66 

VI  I  Prepare  for  a  Journey  81 

VII  Getting  Through  89 

VIII  Paris  at  Last  101 

IX  The  Loot  Begins  ll7 

X  Necks  Again  in  Jeopardy  130 

XI  A  Country  Aflame  143 

XII  The  Colonel  is  Captured— The  Battle        154 

XIII  In  the  Wake  of  the  Storm  172 

XIV  More  "Kultur"  184 
XV  A  Prisoner  Again  195 

XVI  Free  at  Last  208 

XVII  Home  222 

XVIII  After  All  231 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

The  Author  Frontispiece 

Fred  Mitchell's  Steeplechase  Jockey  Licence  24 

Fred  Mitchell's  Flat  Race  Jockey  Licence  48 

Fred    Mitchell's   Certificate    of   Classification    in    the 

British  Army  96 

Fred  Mitchell's  Permit  to  Remain  in  the  War  Zone       128 

Fred  Mitchell's  Fighting  Son  160 

First  page  of  Carnet  issued  to  Fred  Mitchell  by  the 
French  Government  granting  him  permission  to 
travel  in  the  War  Zone  192 

Fred  Mitchell's  War  Zone  Passport  208 


CHAPTER  I 

THE   BREAKING   OF   THE   STORM 

For  twelve  years  I  made  my  home  in  one  of  the 
garden  spots  of  France,  perhaps  the  fairest  country, 
taking  all  in  all,  of  those  that  men  live  in  and  are 
ready  to  die  for. 

I  was  to  see  it  invaded.  The  pleasant,  kind-hearted 
people  among  whom  I  dwelt  were  to  be  changed,  well- 
nigh  overnight,  into  a  terrified,  hunted,  harassed  mob 
of  starvelings,  subject  to  the  ill-will  of  brutal  hordes. 
Villages  whose  steeples  were  in  our  purview  were  to 
be  shattered  into  fire-blackened  heaps.  The  glorious 
old  trees  of  the  roadside  and  the  forest,  some  of  which 
had  witnessed  invasions  of  the  forebears  of  the  mod- 
em Hun,  were  to  lie  prostrate  or  stand  up,  gaunt 
and  leafless,  struck  by  the  lightning  made  of  man. 

The  country  is  a  rolling  one  with  great  patches  of 
forest  where  deer  and  boar  still  roam  and  in  which 
great  hunts  follow  baying  hounds  to  the  sound  of  the 
hunting  horn.  Every  hill  reveals  a  wonderful  land- 
scape. Some  valleys  are  occupied  by  racing  tracks 
while  in  others  the  fertile  ground  is  divided  into  fields 
where  intensive  cultivation  brings  plenteous  crops. 

13 


I4,'r.-.  FRED  MITCHELL'S  WAR  STORY 


t»im^ 


Here  and  there  the  eye  follows  the  course  of  the  Oise, 
bordered  by  ancient  willows  and  other  century-old 
trees  and  winding  its  silvery  course  towards  the  Seine. 
Lakes  there  are  also,  on  the  banks  of  which  are  built 
villas  and  summer  residences,  while  small  streams 
pass  through  fields  and  pastures  in  which  cattle  fatten 
in  the  rich  herbage.  The  roads  are  such  as  may  be 
found  in  France  only,  extending  out  of  sight  between 
hedgerows  or  in  a  setting  of  straight  poplars. 

Such  is  my  impression  of  the  land  in  which  I  made 
my  home,  when  my  thoughts  go  back  to  the  days  be- 
fore the  war.  But  at  present  my  idea  of  it  is  still 
confused.  It  is  like  a  persistent  and  evil  dream  from 
which  I  cannot  awaken.  The  rolling  land  is  there, 
torn  up  by  iron  that  was  never  made  into  plough- 
shares. Some  of  the  forest  survives,  decimated  by 
shells  and  axes  that  have  sought  material  for  the 
beams  that  roof  over  the  trenches.  My  village  es- 
caped destruction,  but  a  mile  or  two  to  the  north- 
ward brings  one  into  devastation.  And  the  young 
men  are  gone.  Those  who  return  will  never  be  young 
again  for  they  have  been  aged  by  suffering.  Slowly 
old  men  and  women,  with  those  too  young  to  fight, 
are  grubbing  among  ruins  for  things  they  hid  or  for 
a  few  poor  heirlooms  that  may  still  be  of  use,  under 
crumbled  stone  and  brick  and  plaster. 

I  must  here  explain  in  a  few  words  my  selection  of 
a  residence  in  this  district.     It  was  the  racing  centre 


THE  BREAKING  OF  THE  STORM        15 

of  France.  To  it  came  visitors  from  all  parts  of  the 
world.  Perhaps  as  many  as  a  thousand  thorough- 
breds were  in  training  within  ten  or  fifteen  miles  of 
my  home.  And  I  am  a  jockey  by  profession,  an  oc- 
cupation which  my  intense  love  of  animals  had  caused 
me  to  supplement  with  the  breeding  and  rearing  of  the 
best  strains  of  dogs. 

I  may  here  state  that  my  profession  had  some  bear- 
ing on  the  events  I  am  about  to  relate.  This  occurred 
in  specific  instances  which  I  shall  mention  further  on, 
but  my  long  training  helped  me  a  great  deal.  It  may 
be  admitted  that  a  man  who  is  to  obtain  continuous 
success  as  a  rider  must  cultivate  the  habit  of  instant 
decision  and  he  must  face  danger  with  a  certain  cool- 
ness. I  do  not  imply  that  he  must  be  braver  than 
other  men,  for  nothing  is  farther  from  my  thoughts, 
but  men  who  follow  hazardous  callings  necessarily 
grow  more  callous  than  others  in  the  presence  of  dan- 
ger, whether  at  sea  or  on  land.  It  was  the  fact  of  my 
being  somewhat  accustomed  to  being  in  tight  places 
which  permitted  me  to  carry  out  many  of  the  xmder- 
takings  that  were  thrust  upon  me. 

Lest  readers  unfamiliar  with  the  risks  of  my  occu- 
pation may  think  I  am  drawing  a  long  bow  I  feel 
compelled  to  say  that  it  is  one  looked  upon  with  dis- 
favour by  the  insurance  companies.  Both  my  arms 
and  legs  have  been  broken  at  some  time  or  other,  with 
a  scattering  of  fractures  of  more  insignificant  bones 


16        FRED  MITCHELLS  WAR  STORY 

such  as  ribs  and  collar-bones.  I  was  perhaps  fa- 
voured in  being  a  rather  small  man,  having  seldom 
weighed  as  much  as  a  hundred  pounds.  Owing  to 
this  the  average  Hun  could  hardly  deem  me  a  very 
dangerous  individual.  This  may  have  had  its  disad- 
vantages since  at  times  he  probably  reckoned  me 
among  the  more  helpless  inhabitants  and  by  this  time 
we  all  know  his  invincible  courage  when  faced  by 
women  and  children.  Bravery  exists  in  all  mankind 
and  the  German  possesses  his  share  of  it.  Alone 
among  modem  peoples,  however,  he  has  mingled  it 
with  the  most  arrant  brutality,  with  unvarying  arro- 
gance towards  inferiors  and  with  a  well-nigh  indecent 
obsequiousness  in  the  presence  of  his  superiors. 
Alone  he  also  possesses  the  distinction  of  deeming 
women  and  children,  as  well  as  the  aged,  as  an  ele- 
ment which,  in  conquered  lands,  calls  for  his  best  ef- 
forts in  the  way  of  spreading  terror.  I  wish  it  were 
possible  even  to  hint  at  a  tithe  of  the  infamies  he  per- 
petrated among  them.  Throughout  this  book  I  shall 
be  compelled  at  every  turn  to  moderate  my  language. 
It  is  a  necessity  and  yet  one  I  must  at  times  deplore. 
It  is  true  that  the  tales  I  could  unfold  would  not  be  fit 
for  the  ears  of  ladies  or  of  the  young,  but  at  the  same 
time  it  must  be  remembered  that  those  outrages  were 
inflicted  upon  women,  of  the  highest  and  lowest,  and 
upon  innocent  children  such  as  yours  and  mine,  such 
as  you  love  from  the  innermost  depths  of  your  hearts. 


THE  BREAKING  OF  THE  STORM        17 

Soldiers  of  France  and  England  have  been  found, 
crucified,  but  I  may  not  tell  the  greater  horrors  their 
mothers  and  sisters  were  often  compelled  to  undergo. 
Like  other  savage  tribes,  the  Huns  know  many  ways  of 
causing  their  victims  to  cry  out  in  agony  for  death  to 
still  their  agonies  and  end  their  shame. 

So  there  I  was,  living  with  my  wife  and  two  chil- 
dren in  a  place  which,  at  this  distance  from  home, 
I  can  think  of  only  as  a  sort  of  paradise  on  earth. 
While  a  jockey  and  working  in  the  midst  of  an  ele- 
ment in  which  the  din  of  the  betting-ring  was  ever 
present  I  had,  from  my  earliest  experience  as  a  rider, 
made  it  an  unalterable  rule  never  to  bet.  Leading 
the  quiet  and  moderate  life  compelled  by  constant 
training  I  had  managed  to  save  a  fair  share  of  all  my 
earnings  and  reached  a  position  of  comfort  such  as 
is  assured  by  a  modest  competence.  My  boy  and  girl 
went  to  school  and  spoke  French  like  the  natives,  so 
that  we  had  to  insist  on  the  use  of  English  in  the  house, 
that  they  might  not  forget  the  language  of  their  par- 
ents. The  kennels  were  a  constant  source  of  pleasure 
to  us.  Nearly  ninety  inmates  spoke  to  us  in  every 
variety  of  canine  language,  from  the  great  deep  voices 
of  huge  wolfhounds  to  the  sharp  yelpings  of  the  tiniest 
toy-terriers.  The  many  puppies  were  always  a  de- 
light. 

One  day  came  the  news  of  the  murder  of  Austrian 
royalties  by  men  who,  although  Austrian  subjects. 


18        FRED  MITCHELL'S  WAR  STORY 

were  to  be  deemed  Serbians  for  the  better  furtherance 
of  plans  made  by  sinister  crowned  heads  that  had 
been  getting  ready.  Any  pretext  would  have  served 
their  purpose  and  this  was  seized  upon  eagerly. 
After  this  came  the  dull  rumbling  which,  we  are  told, 
commonly  portends  an  earthquake  or  cyclonic  dis- 
turbances. It  was  something  intangible  that  floated 
in  the  air  like  poison  gas. 

On  the  peaceful  little  villages  of  northern  France 
these  rumours  had  not  the  slightest  effect.  It  was  as 
if  the  sun  had  been  shining  too  brightly  to  allow  little 
fleecy  clouds  to  cast  any  shadows  on  them.  The  sea- 
son's holiday  preparations  were  well  under  way;  the 
racing  meets  occurred  at  stated  intervals;  the  usual 
happy  life  was  pulsing  strongly  over  a  world  at  peace. 
But  a  very  few  of  us  began  to  feel  that  something  was 
impending.  As  for  many  years  previously  the  coun- 
'  try  swarmed  with  Germans  occupying  all  sorts  of  posi- 
tions, following  the  race  meets,  sending  out  betting 
information,  or  appearing  to  belong  to  those  leisure 
classes  ever  seeking  for  excitement.  The  largest  fac- 
tory in  Gouvieux,  the  village  where  I  lived,  was  owned 
by  Germans  and  manufactured  flags.  Most  of  the 
workmen  were  of  their  own  people. 

A  few  days  only  before  the  declaration  of  the  war, 
those  of  us  who  felt  that  something  was  in  the  wind 
sought  out  a  few  of  those  people.  "Ach!  A  war! 
Never!     Peace  had  lasted  for  over  forty  years  be- 


THE  BREAKING  OF  THE  STORM       19 


tween  Germany  and  France!  Impossible  that  it 
should  be  broken!  Were  not  the  two  countries  ever 
growing  nearer?"  To  this  sort  of  thing  we  listened, 
very  nearly  until  the  end,  and  I  may  say  that  to  a  few 
those  words  brought  comfort.  I  have  no  doubt  that 
some  of  these  Germans  ignored  the  fact  that  war  was 
bound  to  come,  yet  I  firmly  believe  that  still  more 
were  absolutely  and  utterly  forewarned. 

A  stable-boy  of  mine  chanced  to  be  a  German.  A 
willing  and  obliging  fellow  he  proved  and  an  abso- 
lute genius  at  language.  It  was  only  afterwards  that 
we  recollected  that,  on  his  arrival  among  us,  he 
scarcely  knew  a  word  of  French  or  English  and  that, 
strangely  enough,  he  appeared  in  the  course  of  a 
month  to  become  a  master  of  both  languages.  Three 
days  before  the  war  he  came  and  told  me  he  was  go- 
ing to  England,  and  we  parted  on  the  friendliest 
terms.  When  I  next  met  him,  as  the  reader  will  see, 
he  had  blossomed  into  something  very  different  from 
the  knight  of  the  curry-comb. 

The  fourth  or  fifth  of  July  found  us  in  Gouvieux, 
where  I  expected  to  remain  until  some  time  after  the 
racing  season,  intending  to  exhibit  important  entries 
in  some  of  the  dog-shows.  The  value  of  some  of  this 
stock  of  mine  was  considerable.  For  an  all-white 
French  bulldog  that  had  never  been  beaten  in  the 
show-ring  I  judged  it  proper  to  refuse  an  offer  of  four 
thousand  dollars.     Like  many  other  of  my  possessions 


20         FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

at  thai  time  he  had  to  be  sacrificed  later  on.  As  the 
weather  grew  warm  a  part  of  my  household  decided 
to  spend  a  few  weeks  at  Ostend,  in  Belgium,  while  my 
son  Freddie  and  I  remained  with  the  dogs. 

Getting  dogs  in  their  best  form  for  exhibition  rep- 
resents a  great  deal  of  work.  In  order  to  make  ar- 
rangements to  show  about  twenty-five  of  my  animals 
I  had  to  go  to  Paris  and  took  my  boy  with  me.  There 
a  brother-in-law  of  mine  spoke  very  seriously  about 
the  possibility  of  war  and  asked  me  if  I  did  not  feel 
some  anxiety  on  account  of  the  members  of  my  family 
who  were  in  Belgium.  Naturally  enough  I  began  to 
feel  quite  concerned  over  the  matter.  My  wife  had 
been  invited  to  spend  some  time  in  Brussels,  and  it 
was  there  that  the  first  and  blackest  war-clouds  seemed 
to  be  gathering.  The  mobilization  of  German  troops, 
it  appeared,  was  under  way. 

As  soon  as  I  could  go  back  to  Chantilly  I  took  a 
bicycle  and  rode  over  to  Gouvieux  as  fast  as  I  could. 
I  stopped  at  the  telegraph  office  and  wired  to  my  wife, 
urging  her  immediate  return  and  telling  her  to  allow 
nothing  to  delay  her.  As  soon  as  I  had  sent  the  mes- 
sage I  sought  out  some  of  my  friends  and  apprised 
them  of  the  rumours  of  war  between  France  and  Ger- 
many, adding  that  Russia  and  Austria  and  Great 
Britain  might  also  be  added  to  the  turmoil.  My 
friends  heard  my  news  incredulously,  or  at  any  rate 
with  the  greatest  surprise.     Many  of  them  utterly  re- 


THE  BREAKING  OF  THE  STORM        21 

fused  to  believe  in  such  a  possibility  and  had  any 
number  of  cogent  reasons  for  their  assertions.  Re- 
turning to  Paris  on  the  following  day,  my  brother-in- 
law  again  asked  me  anxiously  if  I  had  telegraphed  to 
my  wife.  After  I  had  reassured  him  he  asked  me  to 
come  over  to  his  hotel  to  have  a  talk  over  the  latest 
news  he  had  obtained.  When  we  reached  the  place 
he  declared  that  he  felt  quite  sure  that  war  would  be 
declared  exceedingly  soon,  perhaps  in  less  than  twen- 
ty-four hours.  He  felt  so  certain  of  his  information 
that  I  was  compelled  to  realize  the  gravity  of  the 
situation  and  decided  to  return  home  immediately. 

When  I  reached  my  house  I  found,  to  my  great  re- 
lief, that  my  family  had  already  started,  but  the  tele- 
gram gave  me  no  information  in  regard  to  the  time 
of  their  arrival.  Riding  over  to  Chantilly  I  made  in- 
quiries at  the  railway  station,  asking  how  long  the 
journey  was  from  Brussels  to  this  place.  I  was  some- 
what taken  aback  when  they  informed  me  that  it 
would  be  impossible  for  my  wife  to  arrive  before  the 
following  day  at  six  o'clock  in  the  evening.  If  she 
should  unfortunately  miss  that  train,  they  told  me,  an- 
other twenty-four  hours'  delay  must  occur.  At  this 
time,  I  may  state,  war  had  not  yet  been  declared,  and 
I  was  compelled  to  go  to  Paris  at  once,  on  business. 

I  had  hardly  stepped  off  the  train  before  I  heard 
the  newsboys  crying  out:  "War  Declared!!"  Men 
and  women  lifted  their  hands  up  towards  the  skies.     I 


22         FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

heard  one  or  two  tremendous  oaths.  For  the  most 
part  the  people  looked  staggered,  stupefied,  mesmer- 
ized. The  calamity  seemed  to  have  caught  them  ut- 
terly unprepared.  Till  the  last  moment  there  had 
been  hope.  There  had  been  the  impression  that  this 
was  another  one  of  those  recurring  cries  of  "Wolf!" 
that  would  again  turn  out  to  be  based  on  vague  fears 
and  idle  rumours.  The  menace  had  been  there,  for 
several  days,  but  the  reality  stunned  them.  Nor  was 
it  through  lack  of  courage  that  they  first  bent  their 
heads  under  the  blow.  Old  men  had  told  me  of  the 
days,  forty  years  before,  when  the  populace  had 
shrieked  "On  to  Berlin,"  This  time  there  were  no 
such  boastful  words.  One  felt  that  the  first  blast  once 
passed  would  give  way  to  a  tremendous,  sturdy,  well- 
nigh  silent  push,  in  which  every  man  would  seek  to 
do  his  duty  and  every  woman  would  seek  to  uphold 
him.  The  great  heart  of  France  was  throbbing  faster, 
I  daresay,  but  already  it  was  pulsing  with  the  blood  of 
men  who  have  proved  their  heroism,  over  and  over 
again. 

I  hurriedly  attended  to  my  business,  taking  but  a 
few  minutes  for  my  lunch,  and  rushed  off  home  again. 
When  I  reached  my  station  I  announced  the  news  but 
already  it  had  spread  like  wildfire.  Most  of  the 
people,  however,  ignored  that  the  war  had  been  of- 
ficially and  irrevocably  declared.  The  alarm  was 
great  among  the  townspeople,  while  in  the  smaller  vil- 


THE  BREAKING  OF  THE  STORM       23 

lages  all  looked  excited  and  upset.  >  They  surrounded 
me,  knowing  that  I  was  an  Englishman,  and  eagerly 
inquired  whether  my  country  would  join  theirs.  I 
shouted  to  them  that  England  had  given  her  word  and 
would  fight  to  the  last  man.  So  great  was  their  en- 
thusiasm and  relief  that  it  was  with  some  difficulty 
that  I  escaped  their  most  friendly  mobbing. 

Later  on,  in  the  evening,  I  went  over  to  Chantilly 
to  await  the  arrival  of  the  train  which,  I  hoped,  would 
bring  my  wife  and  daughter  back.  My  joy  was  in- 
tense when  the  cars  clattered  in  and  I  saw  them,  for 
my  anxiety  had  been  great  indeed.  At  home  she  told 
me  all  that  she  had  undergone  in  her  efforts  to  get 
away.  There  had  been  a  very  Babel  of  eager,  anx- 
ious, bewildered  people  all  striving  to  return  to 
their  respective  countries — many  Germans  included. 
When  she  managed  to  reach  the  frontier,  where  all 
luggage  had  to  be  examined,  the  controller  warned 
her  that  if  she  remained  long  enough  to  have  her 
trunks  looked  over  she  would  certainly  lose  her  train. 
Very  kindly  he  oflfered  to  look  after  them  and  have 
them  forwarded  to  Paris,  where  he  would  send  the 
keys  and  where  she  could  claim  her  belongings.  She 
was  glad  to  avail  herself  of  his  good-natured  offer  in 
order  to  avoid  being  delayed. 

Her  concern  was  great  in  regard  to  her  cousin  and 
his  family  in  Brussels.  The  outlook  for  them  was 
threatening.     He  had  an  exceedingly  nice  home  there 


24         FRED  MITCHELL^S  WAR  STORY 

and  a  flourishing  business.  The  daughter  was  six- 
teen and  his  son  one  year  older. 

Every  one  in  Brussels  had  commented  on  the  fact 
that  a  great  many  English  sailors  were  there  on  per- 
mission, enjoying  a  holiday  from  their  ships  anchored 
in  Belgian  ports.  My  wife  had  seen  them  there  but 
two  days  before  the  declaration  of  war. 

For  a  very  long  time  we  never  heard  about  her 
cousin.  It  was  at  least  a  year  afterwards  that  we 
learned  of  his  adventures.  When  the  Germans  came 
he  had  been  interned  with  all  other  British  subjects. 
He  soon  managed  however  to  inspire  some  confidence 
on  the  part  of  the  invaders  and  at  last  was  allowed  to 
move  about,  under  rigid  restrictions.  By  degrees  the 
family  worked  its  way  towards  the  frontier,  where  the 
father  fell  in  with  a  band  of  smugglers.  His  son 
and  he,  alternately,  accompanied  them  on  some  of 
their  trips  across.  They  also  worked  in  the  fields, 
cutting  cabbages  and  turnips  and  helping  prepare  such 
merchandise  for  the  markets.  The  father  was  finally 
allowed  to  drive  a  horse  and  cart  used  in  transporting 
the  vegetables  and  other  foodstuffs,  assisting  a  farmer 
to  carry  his  goods  and  dispose  of  them  in  Holland. 
During  all  this  time  the  family  was  in  severe  straits 
for  lack  of  food.  They  were  compelled  to  sleep  in 
the  fields,  like  outcasts,  and  lived  on  whatever  they 
could  poach  and  on  such  vegetables  as  they  could  pick 
up.     Gradually  they  became  well  known  to  the  guards 


'     '  ,     >   '  » 


*!•*     J»J»**»' 


o 
o 

cc 

w 

o 

H 
H 


^  02 


*     *>  ^  o    «  *    -5' 

f    c     f>   o    -^Z  f      * 


THE  BREAKING  OF  THE  STORM        25 

at  the  frontier  and  the  man  was  allowed  to  go  back 
and  forth,  finally  also  obtaining  permission  for  his 
son  to  accompany  him.  They  made  a  number  of 
trips  and  at  last  arranged  with  some  smugglers  to 
see  that  the  horse  and  cart  were  returned  to  the  farmer, 
who  had  befriended  them.  They  suffered  keenly 
from  want  for  three  weeks  before  they  could  obtain 
funds  to  permit  their  escape  to  England.  Their  ex- 
perience is  related  because  it  was  tjrpical  of  the  ad- 
ventures that  befell  hosts  of  people  who  were  caught 
in  the  advancing  flood  and  suddenly  reduced  from 
affluence  to  dire  poverty. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE    qOMING   OF   THE   TIDAL   WAVE 

Very  soon  the  people  of  the  village  began  to  gather 
about  my  house,  seeking  advice.  Every  able-bodied 
man  had  been  summoned  away  to  the  colours  and  this 
sifting  out  of  the  strong  left  a  population  which,  for 
the  greater  part,  seemed  pathetically  helpless  and  de- 
pendent on  others.  Time  and  again  I  was  eagerly 
asked  whether  England  would  stand  by  France,  her 
ally,  and  I  kept  on  repeating  my  assurances  that  her 
word  was  even  better  than  her  bond  and  that  they  must 
share  my  faith  in  her. 

The  storm  was  not  upon  us  yet,  nor  did  its  fury 
reach  us  for  some  weeks.  But  we  all  felt  that  it  was 
moving  towards  us,  irresistibly,  like  the  waters  of  a 
dam  that  has  burst,  which  are  sweeping  through  the 
valleys,  engulfing  everything  in  their  path. 

To  our  little  village  came  the  news  of  fighting  in 
Belgium.  At  first  there  were  hopeful  rumours  of  a 
tremendous  slaughter  of  the  enemy,  of  magnificent 
repulses.  But  such  tales,  originating  Heaven  knows 
where,  gave  place  to  the  assurance  that  the  Huns  were 

26 


THE  COMING  OF  THE  TIDAL  WAVE    27 

advancing  and  progressing  daily,  shattering  what  had 
been  deemed  impregnable  fortresses  and  spreading 
terror  over  the  land,  methodically,  with  malice  afore- 
thought, plainly  showing  that  rapine  and  murder  and 
rape  were  part  and  parcel  of  the  unchanged  force  that 
had  been  kept  in  leash  during  forty  years,  awaiting 
"The  Day!" 

We  then  heard  that  the  fighting  had  reached  the 
frontier  and  was  coming  nearer.  It  struck  me  like  a 
blow  to  hear  in  Paris,  one  afternoon,  that  the  hordes 
we  believed  had  been  held  up  by  the  Belgians  were 
swarming  through  Brussels  and  advancing  against 
Antwerp.  The  distance  between  the  Huns  and  our- 
selves was  lessening  hour  by  hour,  and  when  I  reached 
home  again,  that  day,  I  found  that  my  wife  had  heard 
the  news  and  was  making  every  preparation  to  leave. 

In  my  paddocks  there  were  eighty-seven  dogs,  which 
at  a  fairly  low  estimate  were  worth  a  hundred  thou- 
sand dollars,  for  among  them  were  prize-winners 
famed  all  over  Europe.  They  represented  the  greater 
part  of  all  I  owned  and  I  could  not  bear  to  leave  them. 
I  felt  compelled  to  tell  my  wife  that  she  must  go  with- 
out me  since  I  would  have  to  remain  and  take  care  of 
them.  But  I  had  not  reckoned  with  a  woman's  faith 
and  loyalty.  She  refused  to  hear  of  leaving  me. 
Many  of  our  nearest  neighbours  began  to  depart  and 
a  number  of  them,  hearing  of  my  decision,  brought 
valuable  dogs  to  me  and  begged  me  to  look  after  them. 


28        FRED  MITCHELLS  WAR  STORY 

Since  the  village  was  empty  of  serviceable  men  and 
utterly  unprotected  I  went  to  the  mayor  of  the  town 
and  offered  my  assistance,  declaring  that  I  would  be 
only  too  glad  to  be  put  to  any  needed  use.  My  slen- 
der weight  utterly  unfitted  me  for  soldiering  and  the 
mayor  was  greatly  pleased  to  avail  himself  of  my 
offer.  He  proposed  that  I  should  do  police  duty,  in 
which  I  was  joined  by  several  gentlemen  of  the  place. 
For  a  long  time,  therefore,  we  patrolled  the  various 
districts  at  night,  each  man  working  every  other  day 
from  nine  to  half -past  four  in  the  morning. 

All  the  owners  and  trainers  of  the  surrounding 
country  had  received  notice  that  their  horses  must 
at  once  be  presented  for  service  in  the  army,  A  very 
large  number  of  valuable  animals  were  taken  and  of 
course  sacrificed  at  the  very  lowest  figures.  None 
that  I  ever  heard  of  hesitated  in  the  performance  of 
this  patriotic  duty.  Away  they  went,  animals  that 
had  won  the  greatest  stakes  and  whose  records  and 
breeding  were  matters  of  knowledge  wherever  racing 
is  conducted.  While  the  loss  was  bravely  accepted, 
many  hearts  were  grieving  at  the  idea  of  these  won- 
derful animals  being  sent  away  to  serve  as  targets  for 
the  advancing  guns.  Men  who  live  very  constantly 
with  animals  cannot  help  feeling  a  personal  and 
friendly  interest  in  them.  To  many  of  us  it  was  as 
if  some  close  relatives  had  been  led  off  to  gasp  their 
lives  away  on  bloody  fields.     Still,  men  were  offering 


THE  COMING  OF  THE  TIDAL  WAVE    29 


all  they  had  for  the  best  interest  of  the  nation,  all  over 
France  and  England,  and  doing  it  cheerfully  for  the 
sake  of  right  against  might. 

Closely  followed  the  announcement  that  in  two 
days  no  more  trains  would  run  from  Chantilly  to  Paris 
as  all  bridges  and  culverts  were  to  be  blown  up  owing 
to  the  nearness  of  the  enemy.  We  felt  that  we  were 
being  cut  off  from  the  great  city,  and  I  immediately 
journeyed  there  to  procure  all  the  dog-biscuits  I  could 
buy.  I  was  successful  in  obtaining  assurance,  at  the 
factory,  that  they  would  at  once  ship  all  the  available 
supply  to  the  Care  du  Nord.  I  then  thought  of  a 
most  valuable  bulldog  I  had  at  Pont  de  Crenelle,  close 
to  the  Eiffel  Tower,  and  went  there  for  it.  Since 
dogs  are  forbidden  access  to  street-cars  I  was  com- 
pelled to  get  a  taxicab,  owing  to  the  great  distance. 
But  I  had  to  wait  for  it  a  long  time  and,  as  I  stood 
in  the  street,  I  heard  the  crashing  of  guns.  Running 
to  the  bridge  over  the  Seine  we  saw  that  the  pieces 
mounted  on  the  tower  were  firing  at  a  German  aero- 
plane that  was  flying  above  the  river.  This,  I  have 
heard,  was  the  first  plane  that  came  over  Paris  from 
the  enemy's  lines.  The  excitement  finally  died  away 
and  we  obtained  our  cab  at  last. 

As  we  landed  in  Chantilly  we  were  surprised  to 
see  hundreds  of  people  crowding  in  and  about  the 
station.  I  wondered  what  could  have  happened  to 
bring  such  an  unusual  number  there.     It  reminded 


30         FRED  MITCHELL'S  WAR  STORY 

one  of  the  affluence  on  the  days  of  great  races.  The 
moment  I  reached  the  platform  I  saw  that  faces  wore 
expressions  of  concern  and  worry  greater  by  far  than 
those  ever  shown  by  losers  at  the  tracks.  A  good 
many  of  these  people  who  were  acquainted  with  me 
came  and  asked  me  anxiously  if  I  did  not  fear  for 
my  wife  and  daughter.  Breathlessly  they  advised  me 
to  rush  home  as  fast  as  I  could  and  bring  my  folks 
at  once  to  the  station,  since  the  very  last  train  to 
Paris  was  expected  in  a  few  minutes.  Their  excited 
words  did  not  affect  me  much,  however,  since  I  had 
already  decided  upon  my  future  movements.  For  a 
moment  I  stopped  to  look  at  them.  Many  were  fel- 
low-countrymen of  mine  and  chiefly  interested  in  the 
racing  establishments.  Their  wives  and  children 
were  with  them.  Some  showed  evidence  of  hasty 
dressing.  They  all  bore  bags  and  cases  and  parcels 
without  number.  It  was  more  like  a  rout,  like  a  flee- 
ing before  impending  disaster,  than  like  the  prepara- 
tion for  an  ordinary  journey.  Such  scenes  were  re- 
peated all  over  lines  extending  for  hundreds  of  miles 
over  which  anxious  men,  haggard  women  and  their 
weeping  children  seemed  to  be  escaping  from  a 
plague. 

When  I  reached  my  house  I  found  four  bicycles 
resting  on  the  wall  outside  the  door,  all  packed  up  and 
ready  for  a  voyage.  As  I  went  in  my  wife  asked  me 
if  I  would  have  something  to  eat  before  we  left.     I 


THE  COMING  OF  THE  TIDAL  WAVE    31 

asked  where  we  were  going  and  she  replied  that  we 
were  leaving  for  Paris.  When  I  told  her  that  the  last 
train  had  gone  she  answered  that  it  was  for  this  reason 
that  the  bicycles  had  been  made  ready.  I  explained 
again  how  impossible  it  was  for  me  to  leave,  and 
urged  her  to  go  and  take  the  children  with  her.  I 
simply  could  not  leave  all  my  beautiful  dogs  to  the 
mercies  of  the  Germans.  Mrs.  Mitchell  asked  me  if 
I  could  not  put  a  lot  of  biscuits  in  the  paddocks  and 
leave  an  abundance  of  water,  but  I  was  compelled  to 
tell  her  that  this  would  not  do  and  again  begged  her 
to  go.  Again,  however,  she  refused  to  leave  without 
me,  preferring  to  run  all  risks  with  me  to  the  alterna- 
tive of  being  separated. 

Here  I  may  say  that  it  is  my  firm  belief  that  at  the 
beginning  of  the  war  Germany  was  so  eager  to  get  to 
Paris  that  she  overlooked  her  greatest  opportunity. 
She  already  had  a  small  army  in  France,  awaiting  the 
word,  and  every  town  and  village  swarmed  with  her 
people,  employed  in  a  host  of  trades  and  occupations, 
underbidding  the  native  labour,  penetrating  into  every 
nook  and  comer.  A  vast  number  of  them  were  spies 
or,  if  not  regularly  employed  as  such,  were  ready  to 
give  information  to  the  invaders.  Many  of  those  who 
had  lived  among  us  returned  as  soldiers,  knowing 
every  bit  of  the  ground.  It  turned  out  that  this,  in 
a  way,  proved  fortunate  for  me.  No  praise  can  be 
too  great  for  the  Belgians  who,  hopelessly  outnum- 


32        FRED  MITCHELLS  WAR  STORY 

bered  at  the  start,  managed  to  resist  so  bravely  and 
to  gain  time.  Before  the  French  could  come  to  their 
help  Brussels  and  Antwerp  had  fallen,  but  it  was  at 
this  time  that  the  French  began  also  to  show  their 
wonderful  bravery.  They  were  fighting  against  the 
most  tremendous  odds,  utterly  unprepared  against  an 
enemy  armed  to  the  teeth,  thoroughly  provisioned, 
and  possessing  the  advantage  of  a  first  successful  and 
devastating  advance.  At  this  time  occurred  the  mis- 
take of  which  I  have  just  spoken.  If  the  German 
army  already  in  France  had  not  rushed  to  Paris,  which 
it  already  saw  in  its  grasp,  but  had  instead  turned 
about  and  outflanked  the  French,  a  tremendous  part  of 
the  fighting  line  of  the  latter  might  have  been  shat- 
tered. 

Week  by  week  we  expected  the  flood  to  reach  us,  but 
about  four  of  them  went  by  before  the  first  waves 
came.  During  this  interval  we  toiled  hard  indeed. 
Those  who  had  not  already  left  were  preparing  for 
their  departure,  reluctant  to  go  away  before  they  were 
actually  compelled  to  do  so.  Everywhiere  they  were 
hiding  and  burying  valuables  they  were  unable  to 
take  away  with  them.  In  the  later  days  some  went  off 
so  hurriedly  that  they  forgot  to  inform  me  that  they 
had  placed  their  dogs  in  my  kennels,  and  I  kept  on 
finding  strange  animals  among  my  own,  till  I  felt  as 
if  I  had  been  in  charge  of  an  asylum. 

By  this  time  communications  were  entirely  broken 


THE  COMING  OF  THE  TIDAL  WAVE     33 

and  we  began  to  feel  the  need  of  food.  I  was  forced 
to  kill  some  of  my  livestock,  and  particularly  the  pigs, 
which  we  smoked  as  best  we  could  under  the  circum- 
stances. This  accumulation  of  food  I  placed  in  a 
great  cave  that  was  under  the  church  and  which  was 
to  shelter  many  unfortunates  during  the  hard  days  to 
come,  and  undoubtedly  to  save  some  lives.  This  cave 
had  not  been  used  for  so  many  years  that  not  even  the 
priest  was  aware  of  its  existence.  It  was  only  when 
searching  for  a  place  to  conceal  our  things  in  that  I 
came  across  it,  aided  by  the  recollections  of  an  ancient 
inhabitant,  who  pointed  out  to  me  a  remarkable  door, 
bricked  and  plastered  over,  which  we  finally  managed 
to  open.  Great  pillars  stood  in  it,  which  could  only 
be  dimly  seen  when  the  door  was  open  as  there  were 
no  windows  or  other  openings.  It  contained  nothing 
but  an  accumulation  of  cobwebs  that  must  have  been 
one  of  the  greatest  on  record,  and  extended  far  be- 
yond the  church  under  my  own  ground. 

The  priest  was  an  excellent  man,  greatly  loved  by 
most  of  the  villagers.  One  day  when  my  son  and  I 
were  anxiously  discussing  what  we  should  do  with  the 
large  influx  of  strange  dogs,  and  how  we  could  pos- 
sibly feed  them  in  addition  to  our  own  large  collec- 
tion, he  came  out  of  the  church,  telling  me  that  he  had 
heard  that  I  intended  to  remain  in  Gouvieux.  He 
wanted  to  know  if  this  was  true  and  was  evidently 
greatly  pleased  when  I  confirmed  this  statement. 


34         FRED  MITCHELL^S  WAR  STORY 

I  had  to  go  over  to  the  chateau  of  a  friend,  Mr. 

B ,  who  had  informed  me  that  he  was  about  to 

leave  for  Dinart  in  his  automobile.  He  asked  me  to 
be  good  enough  to  look  after  his  place  a  little,  ex- 
plaining that  he  had  left  an  old  caretaker  to  look  after 
a  part  of  the  house,  the  remainder  being  in  charge  of 

a  man  and  two  youths.     Mr.  B had  two  horses 

that  had  been  rejected  by  the  government,  and  on  the 
next  day  I  went  over  and  turned  them  out  in  a  field. 
I  also  explained  to  the  old  woman  and  the  men  how 
they  should  behave  when  the  Germans  arrived,  since 
they  were  expected  at  any  time.  On  that  evening  the 
old  lady  hurried  into  my  house,  explaining  that  the 
men  had  left  with  bag  and  baggage.  She  was  terror- 
stricken  at  the  idea  of  remaining  alone  and  I  had  to 
tell  her  that  I  would  send  my  son  to  stay  during  the 
night  at  the  chateau,  until  I  could  make  some  better 
arrangement. 

On  the  next  day  I  was  compelled  to  go  to  Paris, 
on  my  bicycle,  since  there  was  no  other  means  of 
travel.  I  returned  on  the  morrow  and  was  besieged 
by  anxious  enquirers  for  news,  who  eagerly  scanned 
the  few  papers  I  had  brought  back.  The  information 
was  not  encouraging,  and  on  the  next  day  the  village 
was  nearly  deserted.  Again  it  seemed  as  if  some  ter- 
rible epidemic  had  wiped  out  most  of  the  people.  I 
went  to  the  Mairie,  where  I  asked  the  official  if  there 
was  anything  I  could  do,  volunteering  to  serve  him  in 


THE  COMING  OF  THE  TIDAL  WAVE     35 

any  way  that  might  be  in  my  power.  After  this  I 
rode  over  to  Chantilly,  meeting  many  horses  on  my 
way.  They  were  being  ridden  away  to  a  more  south- 
ern section  of  the  country,  taking  journeys  of  ten  or 
fifteen  days — many  of  these  animals  had  been  the 
pride  of  France. 

In  this  town  I  also  found  everything  silent  and 
deserted.  I  could  hardly  realize  that  I  was  not 
dreaming.  On  my  way  up  the  main  street  it  seemed 
ghostly  to  see  all  the  shops  and  stables  locked  up. 
Now  and  then  some  disconsolate-looking  individual 
seemed  to  be  roaming  about,  aimlessly.  Upon  my  re- 
turn I  called  upon  an  old  friend  who  had  charge  of 
an  important  stable  in  Gouvieux.  We  discussed  the 
black  prospects  that  lay  before  us  and  I  left  him.  He 
will  again  be  mentioned  in  these  pages. 

By  this  time  all  telegraphic  and  telephone  com- 
munications had  been  cut.  The  fine  bridges  at  Creil, 
Pontoise,  Pressy,  Boran  and  Senlis  had  been  blown 
up  into  wreckage.  I  began  making  my  rounds  of  va- 
rious houses.  The  keys  had  been  left  at  the  mayor's 
office,  and  we  arranged  to  bury  as  many  of  the  valu- 
able contents  as  we  could.  It  was  thought  best  to  put 
all  the  silverware  and  jewellery  we  could  find  under 
about  four  feet  of  earth  dug  up  in  chickenyards  and 
runs,  since  these  fowl  would  soon  cover  up  the  ground 
and  hide  the  fact  that  it  had  been  tampered  with.  We 
had  some  arduous  toil  over  this  job,  my  son  and  an- 


36        FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

other  man  helping  me.  In  some  of  the  places,  un- 
fortunately, all  the  feathered  inhabitants  had  disap- 
peared. I  brought  over  some  of  my  own  chickens 
and  placed  them  in  those  yards,  to  conceal  as  well  as 
possible  all  traces  of  our  work. 

On  other  days  I  went  the  rounds  of  various  houses 
and  chateaux  in  which  caretakers  had  been  left  in 
charge.  Most  of  the  latter,  however,  had  followed  the 
general  example  and  disappeared.  I  found  that 
many  poor  animals  had  been  abandoned,  some  of 
them  being  locked  in  and  unable  to  come  out.  Most 
of  them,  of  course,  were  starving.  It  was  a  bitter 
sight  to  see  such  suffering,  through  no  fault  of  the 
owners.  Over  walls  and  fences  we  had  to  scramble 
to  drop  poisoned  food  that  would  promptly  end  this 
misery.  It  may  easily  be  conceived  that  such  a  duty 
was  painful  indeed  to  one  who  had  always  loved  ani- 
mals. It  actually  made  me  ill  to  think  of  all  the 
splendid  creatures  that  must  be  destroyed,  and  to 
think  that  fate  had  made  me  their  executioner.  All 
this,  however,  was  but  a  very  small  beginning  of  the 
dreadful  sights  I  was  soon  to  have  thrust  upon  me, 
night  and  day,  during  a  long  period  that  shall  always 
remain  before  me  like  some  hideous  nightmare  that 
will  not  pass  away. 

Rumours  of  the  impending  arrival  of  the  Germans 
were  becoming  more  and  more  persistent,  and  I  de- 
cided to  carry  all  the  food  I  could  procure,  with  all 


THE  COMING  OF  THE  TIDAL  WAVE    37 

the  beds  and  bedding  I  could  put  my  hands  on,  in 
the  old  cave.  Into  it  went  also  a  motley  collection  of 
articles  of  household  use,  cooking  utensils,  stoves  and 
every  other  thing  we  thought  might  be  needed.  I  in- 
vited most  of  the  remaining  inhabitants  to  come  and 
see  our  preparations.  Some  comers  I  partitioned  off 
for  the  use  of  my  family,  but  others  constantly  made 
use  of  the  cave,  later  on,  and  it  was  seldom  that 
close  to  a  score  did  not  pass  anxious  nights  there, 
when  the  storm  finally  broke  upon  us.  We  had  rea- 
son indeed  to  feel  worried.  Tales  of  the  ferocious 
brutality  of  the  invaders  were  coming  constantly  to 
our  ears,  and  I  must  say  that  they  were  seldom  exag- 
gerated. It  would  indeed  have  required  powerful 
imaginations  to  conceive  anything  worse  than  that 
which  really  happened,  and  of  which  I  was  destined 
to  behold  my  share. 

I  was  again  called  to  the  mayor's  office.  He  made 
a  demand  for  all  the  firearms,  ammunition,  and 
weapons  of  any  kind  in  the  possession  of  the  inhabi- 
tants. The  peremptory  orders  were  that  all  such  ma- 
terial should  at  once  be  brought  to  the  Mairie  by  every 
person  in  the  Commune,  to  be  put  away  with  all  keys 
to  empty  dwellings.  This  last  precaution  was  for  the 
purpose  of  preventing  the  soldiers  from  breaking  into 
such  houses  as  were  locked  up.  They  would  only 
have  to  apply  at  the  mayor's  office  in  order  to  be  able 
to  enter  any  premises  they  desired  to  occupy. 


38         FRED  MITCHELL^S  WAR  STORY 

Word  was  also  sent  to  all  the  inhabitants,  giving 
rules  and  advice  as  to  their  behaviour.  Full  instruc- 
tions were  furnished  as  to  how  they  should  act 
throughout  the  five  villages  of  our  neighbourhood.  It 
is  true  that  our  own  was  saved  from  destruction,  but 
these  measures,  loyally  and  honestly  carried  out 
throughout  the  invaded  country,  according  to  the 
rules  of  civilized  warfare,  safeguarded  but  an  in- 
finitesimal proportion  of  houses  from  pillage,  and  of 
inhabitants  from  wanton  insult  and  injury. 

We  were  told  to  store  our  provisions  in  the  most 
secret  places  we  could  find,  since  there  was  no  way  on 
earth  of  obtaining  any  more.  Money  was  out  of  the 
question.  With  all  communications  interrupted  it 
could  buy  nothing.  In  fact,  most  of  the  inhabitants 
buried  their  little  hoards  of  silver  with  their  other  val- 
uables. 

From  time  to  time  people  who  formed  a  sort  of 
vanguard  of  the  refugees  who  were  soon  to  pour  down 
on  us  would  clatter  through  the  village  in  rickety 
carts,  or  pedal  on  with  their  wheels,  or  ride  nags  of 
all  degrees.  Strangers  to  us  they  were,  and  on  their 
faces  apprehension  was  stamped,  indelibly,  and  as 
they  passed  by  they  shouted  to  us  that  the  Boches  were 
getting  nearer.  Some  would  stop  for  a  moment's  rest 
and  speak  of  horrors,  or  swallow  a  little  of  the  food 
they  had  brought  with  them,  hurriedly  looking  ever 


THE  COMING  OF  THE  TIDAL  WAVE    39 

and  anon  to  the  northward  as  if  the  enemy  had  been 
on  their  heels. 

A  few  little  children  played  before  some  of  the 
houses,  unconscious  of  danger,  their  laughter  sound- 
ing oddly  amid  the  general  stillness  of  people  whom 
the  coming  peril  seemed  to  impel  to  speak  in  low 
voices.  But  their  mothers  would  call  them  back, 
fearing  that  they  might  stray  out  of  their  sight  and 
that  the  baby-killing  bayonets  would  be  upon  them,  a 
fear  but  too  well  justified  in  numberless  instances. 

In  this  way  the  four  weeks  I  have  mentioned  went 
by,  day  by  day  and  hour  by  hour,  each  second  bring- 
ing the  devastating  flood  nearer.  It  is  no  wonder  that 
only  the  babies  laughed,  and  only  the  puppies  in  my 
kennels  could  give  an  impression  of  the  carefree  life 
that  had  hitherto  been  ours.  Every  man  and  woman 
able  to  think  looked  sombrely  at  the  future.  Nor  was 
it  altogether  fear.  It  was  not  the  conduct  of  cowards. 
Rather  was  it  the  indignation  of  liberty-loving  souls 
against  an  enslaving  horde,  and  horror  of  a  soldiery 
whose  passage  was  always  a  defilement,  even  when 
they  occasionally  neglected  to  fire  a  dwelling  or  loot 
it  from  top  to  bottom.  No,  I  think  it  may  truly  be 
said  that  it  was  not  fear  that  moved  us,  but  the  awe 
with  which  people  expect  to  see  something  monstrous 
and  unspeakable. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE   HUNS   ARE   ON   US 

One  of  the  most  familiar  pictures  of  our  boyhood's 
days  represented  an  annihilating  fire  sweeping  over 
vast  prairies.  Before  the  scorching  blast  fled  hosts 
of  animals.  The  very  ground  seemed  to  thunder  be- 
neath the  hooves  of  maddened  horses,  of  buff'aloes 
and  of  smaller  wild  things.  The  very  birds,  in 
clouds,  winged  their  flight  away  from  the  burning. 

A  few  days  before  the  Huns  arrived  the  same  pic- 
ture was  reproducing  itself  in  the  panic  that  drove  a 
bewildered  population  into  our  little  villages,  where 
they  only  stopped  for  an  instant  if  their  exhaustion 
was  too  great  for  them  to  remain  on  their  feet.  And 
ever  it  must  be  remembered  that  it  was  not  cowardice 
that  drove  them,  but  the  prospect  of  utter  starvation, 
of  the  levelling  of  their  homes  to  the  ground,  of  the 
pillage  that  would  leave  them  well-nigh  naked,  with 
never  a  crust  of  bread  or  a  drop  of  milk  for  the  young. 
Before  the  sweeping  advance  of  the  enemy  all  means 
of  livelihood  vanished  in  the  smoke  of  the  fires  me- 
thodically kindled  in  homes  without  number  and  in 

40 


THE  HUNS  ARE  ON  US 41 

the  disappearance  of  every  animal  and  even  of  every 
fowl  upon  which  the  soldiers  fell,  hungrily  and  waste- 
fully,  slaughtering  whatever  they  could  not  immedi- 
ately use  and  leaving  the  festering  bodies  to  add  their 
stench  to  the  acrid  clouds  rising  from  smouldering 
homes. 

In  hundreds  came  these  poor  people  from  all  parts 
of  the  Northwest  of  France,  and  from  Belgium. 
Some  of  them  had  gaunt  and  starving  horses  drawing 
carts,  or  donkeys  and  mules.  Others  drove  sturdy 
Belgian  dogs  attached  to  their  little  two-wheeled  carts, 
who  pushed  into  their  collars  with  tongues  lolling  from 
their  mouths.  Folks  less  well  provided  wearily 
pushed  wheel-barrows,  hand  carts  and  even  baby-car- 
riages, piled  up  high  with  poor  belongings  they  were 
seeking  to  save.  Chiefly  these  destitute  people  con- 
sisted of  women  and  children,  though  a  few  youths, 
up  to  fourteen  or  fifteen,  and  some  old  men,  trudged 
on  with  them,  bearing  loads  of  all  kinds.  Now  and 
then  a  cow  would  be  driven  along,  often  bellowing 
with  fatigue  and  thirst.  Smaller  animals,  such  as 
rabbits,  were  being  borne  along,  with  fowls  and  other 
things  that  might  serve  as  food.  Many  of  these  un- 
fortunates had  only  left  their  homes  after  they  had 
been  in  flames  and  were  deprived  of  the  most  neces- 
sary articles.  The  bareheaded  were  as  numerous  as 
those  who  possessed  some  sort  of  covering.  Others 
were  without  shoes  or  wore  the  scantiest  clothing. 


42         FRED  MITCHELLS  WAR  STORY 

Men  and  women  that  looked  like  scarecrows  dragged 
along  exhausted  children,  or  bore  in  their  arms  poor 
little  babies  that  were  practically  starving.  A  few 
of  the  more  fortunate  infants  had  been  laid  in  wheel- 
barrows, among  other  rescued  flotsam  of  the  tidal 
wave.  Indeed  it  was  a  pathetic  sight.  Nor  was  their 
arrival  in  one  of  our  villages  a  means  of  recruiting 
their  strength  by  rest  and  food.  The  former  of  these 
was  out  of  the  question,  as  long  as  they  had  strength 
to  continue  their  flight,  and  the  villagers  themselves 
had  long  before  their  arrival  begun  to  go  hungry. 
These  refugees  were  forced  to  live  upon  whatever 
they  could  gather  by  the  roadside — turnips  or  such 
other  vegetables  or  fruit  as  they  could  pick  up. 

Hardly  one  of  them  ever  knew  whither  he  was 
bound.  The  only  thing  they  knew  was  that  a  possi- 
bility of  safety  lay  to  the  southward  and  the  eastward. 
They  were  mere  objects  floating  irresponsibly  at  the 
behest  of  an  unknown  tide  and  borne  along  merely  by 
the  hope  that  somewhere,  anywhere,  they  might  find 
means  of  stilling  their  hunger  and  laying  down  their 
weary  heads.  Paris  lay  before  them,  they  knew,  and 
in  its  direction  they  trudged  on,  trusting  that  the  great 
city  might  feed  them.  Of  shelter  they  found  little  or 
none.  When  night  came  they  would  sleep  in  the  fields 
or  at  the  side  of  the  road. 

As  the  days  wore  on  the  people  flowing  through  our 
place  were  more  and  more  exhausted  and  footsore. 


THE  HUNS  ARE  ON  US 43 

Those  we  questioned  had  dreadful  or  pitiful  tales  of 
the  treatment  meted  out  to  them  by  the  invaders,  and 
always  they  felt  that  these  men  were  hot  in  pursuit  so 
that,  after  a  few  minutes  of  rest,  they  would  stagger 
again  to  their  feet  and  march  on. 

Nor  must  it  be  thought  that  these  people  all  repre- 
sented the  poor  and  lowly  or  those  inured  to  hardship 
and  strenuous  toil.  Fortune  had  played  many  pranks 
upon  them.  With  fine  shoes  falling  to  pieces  a  lady 
might  trudge  by,  as  brave  as  the  rest,  who  had  but 
a  week  before  ridden  in  her  automobile.  Some  who 
had  employed  a  retinue  of  servants  grubbed  in  the 
fields  for  overlooked  edible  roots.  Among  them  were 
owners  of  villas  and  chateaus,  people  who  had  known 
want  only  by  hearsay  and  had  possessed  large  for- 
tunes and  fine  estates.  At  this  time  they  formed  a 
democracy  of  suffering,  a  republic  of  hunger  and 
carking  anxiety,  to  whom  the  morrow  could  bring  but 
more  pain  and  starvation  which  they  would  have  to 
endure  till  they  reached  some  place  of  safety,  far  over 
there  towards  the  setting  sun. 

It  may  easily  be  conceived  that  our  few  remaining 
villagers  were  upset  and  terrified  at  these  sights  and 
at  the  constant  reports  of  German  outrages.  The  re- 
sults of  them  were  there,  before  their  eyes,  told  by 
people  who  had  gone  through  a  very  hell  of  suffering 
and  bore  its  marks.  And  always  there  was  the  tale 
of  those  who  had  been  left  behind,  unable  to  join 


44        FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

the  flight.  Cripples  and  other  helpless  beings  had 
been  burned  to  death  in  their  homes.  Only  those  able 
to  walk  all  day  and  part  of  the  night  had  escaped. 
Some  had  tried  but  had  fallen  by  the  wayside,  far 
from  home,  unable  to  take  another  step,  and  they  had 
been  engulfed. 

Among  the  hosts  of  poor  creatures  whose  desolate 
progress  we  witnessed  I  recall  a  woman  showing  evi- 
dence of  former  ease  and  refinement.  She  staggered 
to  our  house,  bearing  two  little  babies — ^twins — in  her 
arms,  and  implored  us  to  give  her  a  little  milk  for 
them.  Fortunately  we  had  a  small  supply  which  my 
wife  let  her  have.  A  few  dog-discuits  had  been  left 
on  our  table  and  she  was  delighted  to  take  them  for 
her  little  ones.  I  need  not  say  that  people  accepted 
such  things,  and  would  have  taken  even  much  coarser 
food,  with  the  greatest  eagerness.  Many  of  them  had 
travelled  as  far  as  170  kilometres — about  125  miles 
— walking  day  and  night  and  practically  without  a 
thing  to  eat.  In  order  to  allow  this  poor  woman  to 
rest  for  a  moment  I  took  her  babies  on  my  knees. 
They  were  far  from  satisfied  as  yet  and  I  bethought 
myself  of  a  bit  of  bacon  rind  in  a  cupboard.  I  cut 
it  in  two  and  they  chewed  away  at  it,  ravenously. 

My  readers,  like  thousands  of  other  people  the 
world  over,  may  wonder  how  it  was  possible  for  the 
Germans  to  occupy  so  quickly,  and  to  be  so  unerringly 
acquainted,  with  all  the  districts  through  which  they 


THE  HUNS  ARE  ON  US 45 

passed.  But  I  have  already  said  that  before  the  war 
they  had  swarmed  all  over  these  places.  Hundreds 
and  even  thousands  of  them  were  ready,  in  all  the 
quarries  and  the  racing  centres,  in  the  champagne  dis- 
tricts, in  shops  and  factories.  It  is  not  to  be  won- 
dered at  that  the  poor  inhabitants  were  amazed  to  see 
them  pouring  down  on  them  so  soon.  They  had  been 
ready  and  fully  equipped  for  a  long  time.  Among 
the  first  soldiers  to  pass  through  our  place  I  noticed 
a  man  who  had  been  working  in  the  German  flag- 
factory  in  Gouvieux.  This  was  but  one  case  among 
thousands  which  accounted  for  their  familiarity  with 
the  spots  they  invaded  and  their  perfect  knowledge  of 
roads  arid  even  paths.  They  knew  every  village  and 
every  house  as  well  as  the  inhabitants  themselves  and 
were  able  to  lay  hands  immediately  on  all  provisions 
and  other  things  that  could  serve  their  purposes. 
Myriads  of  places  were  stripped  of  the  slightest  thing 
of  any  value,  even  if  they  chanced  to  escape  incen- 
diarism. Bare  walls  only  were  left,  with  all  contents 
thrown  out  of  windows  and  smashed  to  bits,  wantonly. 
Finally  came  an  evening  I  shall  always  remember. 
It  was  about  half  past  eight.  The  country-side  was 
still,  in  its  peace  of  a  nearly  deserted  land.  My  wife 
left  the  house  in  order  to  go  and  see  an  acquaintance 
who  lived  perhaps  five  hundred  yards  away  from  us, 
and  spent  a  short  time  there.  On  her  return  with  her 
friend  they  noticed  a  lot  of  soldiers  standing  in  front 


46        FRED  MITCHELL'S  WAR  STORY 

of  the  mayor's  office.  It  was  difficult  to  distinguish 
them  among  the  many  trees  growing  in  the  square  in 
front  of  the  building,  and  my  wife  gained  the  impres- 
sion that  they  were  English  troops.  Curious  to  see 
them  more  plainly  she  went  up  close  to  them,  where- 
upon one  of  the  men  shouted  at  her,  in  German,  ask- 
ing her  roughly  what  she  wanted.  She  naturally  did 
not  stop  to  answer,  hurrying  directly  home  with  her 
friend.  I  saw  that  she  had  been  badly  frightened,  as 
she  announced  to  me  that  there  must  be  at  least  five 
hundred  of  the  Huns  on  the  square. 

My  first  impulse  was  to  disbelieve  such  news.  I 
told  her  that  she  had  doubtless  been  in  error,  hoping 
thus  to  quiet  her  alarm.  But  she  insisted  that  she  was 
right  and  I  felt  that  she  could  not  be  mistaken. 

We  stood  out  on  the  doorsill,  watching  eagerly  and 
wondering  what  was  about  to  happen.  Presently 
about  a  hundred  passed  before  us,  mounted  on  bi- 
cycles, as  we  stood  and  stared  at  them.  It  was  a 
sleepless  night  that  we  spent,  knowing  that  the  flood  of 
invasion  had  reached  us  and  was  pouring  on  farther. 
Constantly  we  expected  to  hear  them  pounding  at  our 
door.  I  cannot  say  that  I  was  afraid  but  in  my  heart 
there  was  doubt  and  apprehension  on  account  of  my 
wife  and  children.  They  bore  themselves  bravely, 
however,  and  the  long  night  wore  on. 

On  the  following  morning  we  were  up  at  break  of 
day,  wondering  what  was  in  store  for  us.     The  bell 


THE  HUNS  ARE  ON  US 47 

suddenly  rang  and  I  went  to  the  door,  to  be  met  with 
a  revolver  covering  me  and  held  by  an  officer.  In  ex- 
cellent English  he  addressed  me : 

'•Oh!     Is  that  you,  Mitchell?" 

I  answered  that  he  was  not  mistaken  and  he  ques- 
tioned me  again: 

"Do  you  know  me?" 

"I'm  afraid  I  don't,  in  those  clothes,"  I  replied, 
realizing  that  there  was  something  familiar  in  the 
man's  face. 

At  this  he  mentioned  a  couple  of  race-horses  I 
knew,  and  suddenly  I  recognized  him  perfectly.  My 
surprise  was  great  indeed,  for  he  had  been  nothing  but 
an  ordinary  stableman,  feeding  and  grooming  horses 
and  at  the  beck  and  call  of  every  trainer  and  jockey. 
He  had  been  employed  in  one  of  the  leading  racing 
establishments  of  France,  belonging  to  the  Roths- 
childs. 

He  asked  me  if  I  had  any  bread  and  I  was  obliged 
to  acknowledge  that  I  had  a  little.  At  this  time  there 
was  but  one  baker's  shop  in  the  village  that  was  open. 
An  old  man  with  a  son  of  fourteen  were  the  only  two 
left  in  the  place.  They  had  sought  to  do  the  work 
for  all  the  remaining  inhabitants,  but,  thus  short 
handed,  had  been  hard  put  to  it  to  turn  out  the  needed 
amount.  This,  naturally,  had  limited  the  supply  to 
rather  small  rations.  I  told  the  officer  that  he  could 
have  half  my  share,  and  then  he  asked  me  what  drink- 


48        FRED  MITCHELL'S  WAR  STORY 

ables  I  possessed.  I  replied  that  I  had  a  little  Eng- 
lish beer  and  a  few  bottles  of  stout,  with  some  white 
and  red  wine,  telling  him  that  he  could  help  himself 
to  it.  He  ordered  one  of  his  men  to  go  down  into  my 
cellar  and  bring  out  three  bottles  of  stout,  which  I 
opened.  He  ordered  me  to  drink  also  and  was  rais- 
ing his  glass  to  his  lips  when  the  soldier  urged  him  to 
be  careful  and  to  make  me  drink  from  the  glass  be- 
fore he  touched  it.  The  colonel,  for  I  discovered 
that  the  former  cleaner  of  stables  held  no  less  ex- 
alted a  rank,  waved  him  aside. 

"No,"  he  declared.  "I  know  that  I  can  trust 
Mitchell." 

So  we  naturally  drank  the  stuff,  after  which  the 
colonel  left,  his  man  bearing  away  stout,  beer  and 
wine,  with  a  couple  of  pounds  of  bread,  and  I  heard 
nothing  more  from  them  until  about  midnight.  I 
had  decided  that  it  would  be  best  for  me  not  to  go 
to  bed,  and  when  I  so  informed  my  wife  she  declared 
her  intention  of  remaining  up  with  me.  I  could  only 
tell  her  that  she  might  do  as  she  wished,  but  that  I  felt 
compelled  to  remain  on  the  watch  to  see  if  I  could 
possibly  save  or  help  any  one.  Chance  had  brought 
about  this  meeting  with  a  man  I  knew,  and  who  seemed 
to  be  fairly  well  disposed  towards  me,  and  I  thought 
my  acquaintance  with  him  might  help  us  or  some  of 
our  friends  out  of  trouble.  Hence  we  kept  up  our 
vigil  together.     I  took  the  time  to  make  a  short  visit 


.>.»,'•    '. 


',*    f  ''*''' ''    •' 


THE  HUNS  ARE  ON  US 49 

to  the  cave  under  the  church,  which  could  be  reached 
from  one  of  my  own  yards,  to  see  that  all  was  well 
there. 

I  recall  very  clearly  what  a  wonderful  night  it  was, 
with  the  moon  shining  brightly.  In  its  light  I  could 
plainly  see  the  clock  on  the  steeple  of  the  church, 
some  125  yards  away. 

I  had  only  sat  down  again  a  few  minutes  when  my 
wife,  in  a  low  voice,  declared  that  some  one  was  climb- 
ing up  to  the  window. 

I  immediately  seized  a  revolver  I  had  hidden,  but 
my  wife  implored  me  to  put  it  away  again  since  we 
might  all  be  killed  if  I  should  use  it  or  even  if  it 
was  seen  in  my  hand.  I  concluded  that  her  advice 
was  wise  and  so  I  merely  looked  through  the  window 
to  see  what  was  going  on.  Outside  my  front  door, 
and  well  above  it,  there  was  a  signboard.  A  German 
soldier  was  stooping  down,  and  a  second  one  perched 
upon  his  back  was  holding  up  a  third,  who  was  busily 
engaged  in  carving  something  upon  the  sign.  I  after- 
wards found  out  that  it  helped  protect  the  house  and 
its  inmates  from  injury. 

My  acquaintance,  the  colonel,  was  entirely  familiar 
with  every  inch  of  ground  in  and  about  my  land  and 
house.  While  I  had  been  riding  he  had  practically 
been  my  valet  during  much  of  the  time,  and  he  had 
looked  after  the  horses  I  used  to  ride  over  to  various 
tracks  and  stables  or  to  the  hunts.     I  had  known  him 


50        FRED  MITCHELLS  WAR  STORY 

only  as  the  most  ordinary  stable-hand  and  was  natur- 
ally amazed  and  bewildered  at  seeing  him  blossom 
out  so  swiftly  in  resplendent  uniform  and  in  high 
command.  His  perfect  knowledge  of  his  surround- 
ings seemed  to  be  shared  by  his  men.  They  never 
took  the  trouble  to  ask  or  hunt  for  anything  they 
wanted,  knowing  unerringly  where  they  could  lay 
hands  on  it.  Thus  was  the  enemy  ready  and  utterly 
familiar  with  nearly  every  foot  of  the  land  of  France 
and  Belgium.  He  had  really  been  invading  these 
countries  and  carrying  on  a  form  of  warfare  against 
them  during  all  these  years  of  peace.  They  had  pre- 
pared for  every  eventuality  they  could  imagine  and 
left  nothing  to  chance.  The  junkers  of  Germany,  too 
noble  and  grand  a  class  to  toil  at  honest  work  in  their 
own  land,  in  spite  of  their  being  a  poverty  stricken  lot 
as  a  rule  and  to  whom  service  in  the  army  is  the  only 
occupation  worthy  of  their  grandeur,  are  only  too 
glad  to  accept  menial  work  in  foreign  parts  as  long 
as  they  can  serve  their  Kaiser  and  country  by  acting 
as  spies  with  the  hope  of  one  day  biting  the  hands 
that  have  fed  them. 

Here  I  must  acknowledge  the  fact  that  my  German 
acquaintance  acted  towards  me  in  a  rather  kindly 
manner.  I  have  always  sought  to  maintain  pleasant 
relations  with  the  people  who  worked  for  me,  and  he 
had  never  received  any  but  the  best  usage  at  my  hands. 
Doubtless  he  also  considered  that  I  would  probably  be 


THE  HUNS  ARE  ON  US 51 

of  some  assistance  to  him.  Perforce  this  turned  out 
to  be  the  case,  in  a  good  many  instances,  and  such  ill- 
will  as  I  may  bear  to  him  is  only  directed  to  the  in- 
famous system  he  helped  to  uphold. 


CHAPTER  IV 

LEARNING   A   NEW   TRADE 

On  the  following  day  I  heard  some  men  marching 
by  and,  looking  out,  I  saw  twenty  or  thirty  German 
soldiers  who  were  passing  my  house.  To  my  intense 
surprise  they  all  saluted  as  they  went  by  the  door. 
This  incomprehensible  move  of  theirs  disturbed  me 
considerably,  and  one  or  two  neighbours  were  in  the 
same  frame  of  mind.  The  good  priest  was  one  of 
them.  We  had  somehow  gained  the  impression  that 
it  must  signify  trouble  of  some  sort  and  that  the  house 
was  doomed.  I  asked  the  priest's  advice  as  to  what 
he  thought  it  best  to  do,  since  I  had  others  than  my- 
self to  consider.  He  thought  I  ought  at  once  to  go 
over  to  the  mayor's  office  and  explain  my  predicament. 
There,  however,  I  was  told  that  it  was  an  excellent 
sign,  the  meaning  of  which  was  that  neither  my  house 
nor  my  people  would  be  molested.  At  this  I  was  able 
to  breathe  again.     It  cheered  us  all  considerably. 

About  midday  I  received  a  message  requesting  me 
to  go  to  one  or  two  places.  After  I  had  started  to 
carry  out  my  instructions  I  met  several  of  these  Ger- 
mans, who  halted  me.     They  questioned  me  carefully 

52 


LEARNING  A  NEW  TRADE  53 

and  in  excellent  English,  and  I  found  them  eager  to 
know  whether  I  thought  that  the  British  had  begun 
to  fight.  They  appeared  to  be  quite  firm  in  the  belief, 
which  had  been  most  profound  among  all  Germans, 
that  my  countrymen  would  never  join  France  and 
fight  against  their  country.  They  were  destined  to 
be  surprised,  to  their  sorrow  and  fury.  Of  course  I 
pleaded  utter  ignorance  of  what  was  happening,  and 
they  believed  me  all  the  more  readily  since  no  one  had 
been  able  to  procure  any  papers  and  we  had  been  for 
many  anxious  days  without  the  slightest  bit  of  news. 
These  men  looked  surly  and  threatening  as  they  spoke 
to  me,  and  I  must  acknowledge  that  I  was  somewhat 
flustered,  since  I  possessed  no  passport  of  any  kind 
and  I  had  not  the  slightest  chance  of  being  able  to 
defend  myself  if  they  took  it  into  their  heads  to  attack 
me.  I  was  compelled  to  tell  them  where  I  lived  and 
at  once  took  this  occasion  of  telling  them  that  the  col- 
onel had  been  at  my  house.  I  related  several  inci- 
dents, which  appeared  to  afford  them  some  amuse- 
ment, and  they  told  me  they  would  soon  come  over  to 
my  place.  Finally  they  allowed  me  to  pass  on  and 
I  hurried  away,  well  pleased  that  I  had  been  able  to 
satisfy  them,  and  reached  my  first  place  of  call. 
From  this  point  my  way  was  along  the  side  of  the 
river,  and  I  arrived  in  a  village  where  I  met  more 
Germans.  Some  of  them  were  paddling  themselves 
about  in  small  boats  and  rowing  themselves  across 


54         FRED  MITCHELL'S  WAR  STORY 

the  River  Oise.  As  soon  as  they  caught  sight  of  me 
they  ordered  me  to  pull  up  at  once,  whereupon  I 
jumped  ofF  my  bicycle.  Their  chief  anxiety  was  to 
know  whether  it  would  be  possible  for  them  to  get 
something  to  drink  at  the  cafe.  I  replied  that  I  could 
not  be  sure  of  it,  since  I  was  in  no  position  to  know, 
but  that  I  would  see  what  I  could  do  for  them.  I 
went  around  to  the  back  of  the  house,  which  was  all 
locked  up,  and  finally  broke  a  pane  of  glass  in  the 
window  and  unfastened  the  latch.  To  my  surprise  I 
found  a  terrified  old  lady  in  the  kitchen.  She  was 
stone-deaf  and  had  heard  nothing  of  what  was  going 
on.  I  did  my  best  to  explain  to  her  what  the  sol- 
diers wanted,  but  she  was  in  a  dreadful  state  of  mind 
and  sought  to  put  me  off,  shrieking  that  her  husband 
would  be  back  in  a  few  minutes.  I  told  her  that  the 
men  must  have  some  beer  and  that  it  would  be  best 
to  let  them  have  it  instead  of  taking  the  risk  of  having 
them  wreck  the  place.  The  poor  old  lady  was  so 
panic-stricken  that  she  asked  me  if  I  could  not  serve 
the  beer  out  to  them,  whereupon  I  at  once  assumed  a 
new  function. 

The  soldiers  were  served  with  "canettes,"  holding 
about  a  pint  apiece,  which  they  guzzled  down  en- 
thusiastically. After  they  had  drunk  their  fill  they 
asked  me  where  I  was  going  and  wanted  to  know  why 
I  was  not  in  the  army.  I  had  to  enter  into  lengthy 
explanations  in  regard  to  my  errands  and  as  to  the 


LI^ARNING  A  NEW  TRADE  55 

reasons  of  my  having  escaped  military  duty.  I  was 
naturally  obliged  to  invent  some  excuses  and  told 
them  that  I  had  been  looking  for  something  to  eat. 
Also  I  informed  them  that  I  had  been  asked  to  report 
at  the  mayor's  office  whether  there  were  any  uncared- 
for  animals  that  should  be  destroyed.  On  the 
strength  of  my  tale  I  was  finally  allowed  to  depart 
and  continued  my  tour  of  investigation,  looking  out 
for  dogs  and  other  abandoned  creatures.  On  my  way 
I  called  at  Mr.  B.'s  house  and  here,  to  my  surprise,  I 
found  Marian,  the  old  caretaker  of  whom  I  have 
spoken.  She  was  sitting  on  a  chair  outside  the  door, 
weeping  bitterly.  She  was  terribly  unnerved  and 
upset.  She  told  me  that  she  was  too  badly  fright- 
ened to  be  able  to  remain  any  longer,  even  in  the  day- 
time, and  as  my  son  Freddie  could  not  possibly  stay 
there  day  and  night,  having  any  amount  of  other  work 
to  do,  I  persuaded  her  to  feed  the  animals  and  then 
lock  up  the  house  and  come  with  me.  I  promised 
that  my  son  and  I  would  return  with  her  later,  to  at- 
tend to  the  horses  for  the  night.  Then  she  could  come 
back  and  sleep  with  the  others  in  the  old  cave.  She 
was  overjoyed  at  this  arrangement. 

Two  days  later  the  old  lady  found  a  police  dog, 
which  was  very  sick,  and  which  I  doctored  up  to  the 
best  of  my  ability.  On  that  evening  she  seemed  to  be 
afraid  of  leaving  the  house  and  begged  me  to  let  my 
son  come  and  spend  the  night  there.     The  idea  was 


56         FRED  MITCHELL'S  WAR  STORY 

not  one  that  pleased  me,  since  I  hated  to  have  the  boy 
all  night  out  of  my  sight,  owing  to  the  unknown  dan- 
gers that  might  be  surrounding  us.  Still,  in  the  end 
I  agreed  to  her  request. 

At  about  half  past  twelve  that  night  Marian  heard 
the  dog  barking  and  peered  out  of  the  window.  She 
could  see  German  soldiers  perched  on  top  of  the  wall 
and  engaged  in  climbing  up  the  post  which  led  to  the 
telephone  wires,  which  they  immediately  destroyed. 
She  awakened  my  son  at  once  and  the  lad  got  dressed, 
after  which  the  two  of  them  let  themselves  out 
through  the  back  door  and  went  across  the  river,  cir- 
cling around  for  about  a  mile  and  a  half  till  they 
finally  reached  my  home.  But  when  they  got  there 
they  had  no  means  of  letting  themselves  in,  as  they 
feared  to  make  some  disturbance  that  would  arouse 
suspicion  on  the  part  of  any  stray  German  passing  by. 
I  was  alone  in  the  house,  all  the  others  being  in  the 
cave,  and  of  course  never  heard  them.  They  made 
their  way  around  the  old  church  to  one  of  the  back 
gates.  Freddie  climbed  over  this  and  went  through 
one  of  the  kennels,  from  which  he  reached  the  back 
door.  I  was  taken  by  surprise  when  I  saw  him  there. 
He  was  quite  excited  when  he  told  me  the  predicament 
they  were  in,  so  that  it  was  some  time  before  I  dis- 
covered that  the  lady  was  still  standing  out  there  in 
the  dark,  shivering  with  fright,  for  she  had  been  quite 
unable  to  follow  the  boy  over  the  gate.     When  we 


LEARNING  A  NEW  TRADE  57 

went  out  we  found  that  she  had  fainted  through  sheer- 
terror.  Finally  we  managed  to  get  her  inside  and 
Freddie  ran  in  the  house  for  some  water,  with  which 
we  revived  her.  In  less  than  a  half  an  hour  she  was 
all  right  again  and  we  took  her  over  to  the  cave,  but 
not  without  the  greatest  difficulty.  Once  there,  how- 
ever, she  naturally  obtained  the  best  of  care  and  I 
returned  to  the  house,  where  I  sat  up  for  the  rest  of 
the  night. 

Two  days  after  this  the  Colonel  came  over  to  my 
house  again  and  enquired  for  me.  My  wife  told  him 
that  I  was  in  a  baker's  shop  opposite  my  house,  that 
had  been  deserted.  The  keys  had  been  left  with  me, 
as  the  owners  had  possessed  a  few  chickens  and  rab- 
bits with  a  very  old  horse  and  had  asked  me  to  look 
after  the  derelicts.  At  this  time  I  had  become  a  sort 
of  dry-nurse  to  more  poor  abandoned  animals  than  I 
had  ever  realized  a  man  could  look  after.  Our  sup- 
ply of  biscuits  for  my  dogs  had  run  exceedingly  low 
and  I  was  terribly  afraid  that  I  would  not  be  able  to 
obtain  sufficient  food  for  them.  In  this  emergency  I 
bethought  myself  of  this  old  bakery,  wondering  if  I 
could  not  make  shift  to  concoct  some  sort  of  dog-food 
there.  I  found  that  there  was  on  hand  a  large  amount 
of  material,  which  we  called  mullage.  It  was  a  sort 
of  coarse  meal,  containing  much  of  the  refuse  of  the 
flour-mills,  which  was  usually  employed  for  the  pur- 
pose of  fattening  pigs.    Necessity,  they  say,  is  the 


5' 8         FRED  MITCHELL'S  WAR  STORY 

rmother  of  invention,  and  I  went  to  work  to  find  out 
whether  I  could  not  put  it  to  some  other  use.  In  a 
few  days  more  my  dogs  would  be  starving,  and  I  de- 
cided to  try  and  make  biscuits  for  them  out  of  this 
stuff.  The  ovens  were  in  excellent  order  and  we 
found  that  the  heat  could  readily  be  turned  on.  Any 
amount  of  wood  was  on  hand  and,  with  my  boy's  help, 
I  began  to  try  my  apprentice  hand  at  baking.  We 
had  been  hard  at  it  for  some  time  and  had  turned  out 
about  sixty  biscuits  that  might  have  weighed  about 
four  to  the  pound.  About  eighty  or  a  hundred  more 
were  in  the  ovens,  not  entirely  baked,  when  the  bell 
rang.  I  naturally  thought  that  it  was  my  wife  or 
some  of  the  villagers  looking  for  me  and  answered 
promptly,  being  greatly  surprised  when  I  found  the 
Colonel  standing  there  and  waiting.  Four  of  his  men 
were  with  him.  I  had  already  discovered  that  he 
preferred  to  be  well  guarded.  Several  soldiers  al- 
ways moved  about  with  him,  and  hundreds  more  were 
always  within  summons  of  the  whistle  he  carried. 

At  once  he  began  to  bombard  me  with  questions. 
What  was  I  doing  in  there?  What  business  had  I  to 
rummage  about  that  place?  I  hastily  informed  him 
that  I  had  been  compelled  to  adopt  a  new  profession 
and  invited  him  to  enter  and  see  what  I  was  doing. 
He  complied,  being  closely  followed  by  the  others, 
and  manifested  his  astonishment  when  he  saw  the 
work  we  were  engaged  in.     The  man  appeared  to 


LEARNING  A  NEW  TRADE  59 

think  there  was  a  humorous  side  to  the  situation;  at 
any  rate  he  indulged  in  a  little  fun-making  which 
appeared  to  afford  him  considerable  amusement.  He 
joked  over  my  change  in  occupation  and  about  the 
many  strings  I  appeared  to  have  to  my  bow. 

"You  will  have  lots  to  talk  about  after  this  war  is 
ended,"  he  told  me.  "I  hope  that  we  will  meet  again 
under  other  circumstances,  if  only  to  discuss  the  art 
of  baking  biscuits.  You  seem  to  be  getting  along 
pretty  well." 

It  must  certainly  have  seemed  like  a  most  amusing 
joke  to  him,  for  he  kept  on  repeating:  "Think  of 
Fred  Mitchell,  the  celebrated  jockey,  with  a  big  white 
apron  around  him  and  baking  biscuits." 

From  this  he  went  off  into  reminiscences,  telling 
me  of  the  wonderful  times  he  had  been  afforded  as  a 
result  of  information  I  had  given  him  in  regard  to  the 
races.     He  went  on: 

"You  can't  imagine  how  much  money  you  have  per- 
mitted me  to  win  during  the  days  when  I  was  your 
stableman.  Indeed,  you  put  me  on  to  some  mighty 
good  winners.  Do  you  remember  the  time  you  told 
me  that  Gilder  Ray  was  sure  to  win  at  St.  Cloud? 
There  was  not  another  man  in  the  stables  or  elsewhere 
who  had  the  slightest  idea  that  he  had  a  chanoe,  not 
even  poor  old  Trainer  Brown.  I  wonder  where  he 
is  now,  and  what  has  become  of  him?  Didn't  he  go 
over  to  Germany  to  train?     It  seems  to  me  that  he 


60        FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

did.     Ah,  well,  I  hope  we  shall  have  some  more  good 
fellows  of  his  kind." 

He  stopped  for  a  moment,  looking  at  me  and  smil- 
ing a  little. 

"I  wonder  if  you  will  believe  me  when  I  tell  you 
that  I  won  over  forty  thousand  francs  that  day.  In 
all  I  took  in  over  fifty  thousand  marks — thirty  thou- 
sand of  it  in  German  money,  for  I  used  to  place  all 
my  bets  there.  Isn't  it  amusing  to  think  that  all  these 
people  here  looked  upon  me  as  a  mere  stable-boy?" 

He  had  a  good  laugh  over  this,  and  was  perhaps 
quite  entitled  to  it,  for  he  certainly  had  fooled  us 
egregiously. 

"I  wonder  what  old  Alf  would  think?"  he  went  on, 
referring  to  the  head  stable-lad.  "I  wish  he  were 
here  now  so  that  I  could  tell  the  'bee'  what  he  used  to 
say  to  me.  It  used  always  to  be  the  'Bee'  with  him, 
his  invariable  name  for  every  one.  'Now  you  "bees" 
get  on  with  this,  hurry  up  with  that!  I've  told  you 
so  a  hundred  times!'  We  used  to  dodge  around  the 
comers  trying  to  beat  the  old  chap.  I  shall  never 
forget  one  morning  when  I  wanted  to  get  away  to  the 
telegraph  office.  He  met  me  going  back  to  the  horse 
I'd  finished  grooming  and  asked  me  what  the  deuce 
I  was  doing?  He  little  thought  I  was  trying  to  get 
out  through  the  back  way  and  out  through  the  wood. 
But  he  swallowed  some  excuse  I  gave  him  and  I  man- 
aged to  deliver  my  telegrams  and  get  back  again 


LEARNING  A  NEW  TRADE  61 

without  being  caught.  I  have  no  doubt  that  if  he  had 
I  would  have  been  kicked  out  of  the  yards  and  dis- 
charged at  once." 

He  laughed  again  and  rose. 

"Well,  we  must  have  some  more  conversation  about 
those  good  old  days,  when  I  have  a  little  more  time." 

All  this,  it  may  readily  be  believed,  was  not  quite 
as  amusing  to  me  as  it  had  proved  to  him,  although  it 
was  interesting  to  talk  over  old  times  again.  But,  at 
any  rate,  our  talk  had  somewhat  increased  my  confi- 
dence. I  could  see  that  all  this  might  serve  to  bring 
the  fellow  somewhat  closer  to  me  and  for  this  reason 
I  encouraged  him  to  talk.  At  any  moment  I  might 
have  dire  need  of  him,  in  case  of  sudden  trouble. 
This  may  not  seem  absolutely  fair  on  my  part,  but  the 
matter,  after  all,  might  be  one  of  life  and  death  for 
me  and  mine,  and  for  my  friends  in  the  village.  I 
remembered  that  we  were  at  war,  in  which  everything 
is  supposed  to  be  fair. 

His  retinue  had  made  themselves  perfectly  at  home, 
sitting  down  on  the  meal-bags  or  any  other  conven- 
iences they  could  find.  They  laughed  to  hear  about 
what  their  colonel  had  been  and  remarked  how  strange 
it  was  that  our  paths  had  crossed  again. 

The  colonel  told  me  that  he  could  not  make  out  why 
I  always  refused  to  bet,  for  he  knew  that  this  was  my 
invariable  rule.  He  simply  couldn't  understand  it. 
Time  and  again  he  asserted  that  I  would  have  made  a 


62        FRED  MITCHELLS  WAR  STORY 

large  fortune  in  the  betting  ring.  To  this  I  could 
only  reply  that  wagering  was  something  that  had  never 
appealed  to  me  in  the  slightest  degree,  and  that  I  pre- 
ferred to  spend  all  my  spare  time  with  my  dogs. 
They  were  my  hobby,  second  only  in  importance  to 
my  dear  ones  at  home. 

Suddenly  he  asked  me  whether  the  biscuits  I  was 
baking  were  fit  to  eat,  to  which  I  answered  that  I  be- 
lieved they  were.  Promptly  my  son  Freddie  picked 
one  of  them  up  and  broke  it,  beginning  to  eat  it.  The 
Colonel  immediately  followed  suit  and  appeared  to 
rather  like  the  taste  of  it.  With  this  he  ordered  his 
men  to  sample  them.  They  obeyed  at  once  and, 
rather  to  my  surprise,  were  not  satisfied  until  they  had 
consumed  several  apiece.  It  seemed  queer  to  me  that 
they  suddenly  withdrew  into  a  comer  of  the  place, 
where  they  began  an  earnest  conversation  in  their  own 
language  with  their  colonel.  The  latter  then  came 
back  to  me  and  asked  me  if  I  could  make  ready  for 
them  about  two  hundred  and  fifty  of  these  biscuits, 
by  five  o'clock  in  the  evening. 

Under  other  circumstances  I  might  have  been 
rather  flattered  by  this  tribute  to  the  perfection  of  my 
latest  accomplishment,  like  the  housewife  who  is 
pleased  to  see  her  guests  delighted  with  the  results  of 
her  culinary  efforts.  But  at  this  time  I  must  say  that 
my  heart  sank  within  me.  I  could  see  all  manner  of 
gruesome  pictures  of  myself,  permanently  occupying 


LEARNING  A  NEW  TRADE  63 

the  baker's  boots,  with  never  a  moment  for  rest  or  for 
the  many  other  things  I  had  to  attend  to.  Moreover, 
I  felt  nearly  overcome  to  think  that  my  poor  dogs, 
after  all,  might  finally  starve  as  the  result  of  the  greed 
displayed  by  these  Germans.  I  dared  not  refuse,  of 
course,  for  I  was  utterly  at  the  mercy  of  these  people. 

When  I  asked  the  Colonel  whether  he  could  not 
spare  me  a  couple  of  men  from  his  command,  to  help 
me  out,  he  answered  that  he  was  sorry  that  it  was 
absolutely  impossible.  He  added,  in  a  low  voice, 
and  out  of  hearing  of  the  others,  that  it  might  not  be 
safe.  It  is  fair,  I  suppose,  to  think  he  knew  pretty 
well  what  sort  of  people  he  was  commanding,  since  he 
plainly  showed  that  they  were  not  to  be  trusted. 

My  son  and  I  worked  fearfully  hard  to  get  the  re- 
quired biscuits  ready  at  the  appointed  time,  with  a 
few  more  for  our  dogs.  Needless  to  say,  we  had  not 
nearly  enough  to  supply  them  all,  in  spite  of  our 
efforts.  At  five  o'clock  six  lancers  galloped  up  to 
the  door.  One  of  them  dismounted  and,  summoning 
me,  demanded  the  biscuits  at  once,  gruffly,  and  or- 
dered me  to  have  two  hundred  and  fifty  or  three 
hundred  more  ready  at  nine  the  next  morning. 

I  sought  to  tell  him  that  I  could  not  be  sure  of  being 
able  to  supply  such  a  number,  but  he  interrupted  me, 
harshly  crying  that  I  must  have  them  ready.  The 
men  slung  the  sacks  in  front  of  their  saddles  and 
dashed  away  again. 


64        FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

After  they  had  disappeared  I  asked  my  wife  to  go 
over  to  the  mayor's  office  and  explain  about  those  bis- 
cuits, asking  what  I  had  better  do.  The  secretary 
stared  at  her: 

"Tell  him  to  go  on  baking,  by  all  means;  we  must 
keep  on  good  terms  with  the  fellows.  If  Mitchell 
only  knew  how  much  he  is  doing  for  us  he  would 
work  night  and  day!  He  may  be  the  means  of  saving 
us  all!  For  the  love  of  God  tell  him  to  keep  on 
baking  those  biscuits.  Let  your  son  work  while  he 
gets  a  little  sleep,  but  keep  at  it,  resting  and  working 
in  turns!" 

Since  we  were  quite  helpless  in  the  matter  we  could 
but  abide  by  the  secretary's  instructions,  and,  since  I 
realized  how  important  a  matter  it  was,  we  kept  up  the 
work  willingly  enough.  It  did  one's  heart  good  to 
see  the  joy  of  the  villagers  when  I  told  them  of  our 
experience  that  evening.  There  were  less  than  a 
score  of  them  left,  and  not  an  able-bodied  man  among 
them,  so  that  it  was  impossible  for  me  to  get  any  help 
from  them.  Two  or  three  of  the  old  men — one  of 
them  at  least  seventy — simply  danced  for  joy  at  the 
thought  that  I  might  possibly  be  instrumental  in  sav- 
ing the  village.  The  old  fellow  had  some  property 
and  valuables  he  was  by  no  means  anxious  to  lose. 
All  this  made  me  all  the  more  eager  to  go  on  with 
my  baking  and  whatever  else  I  could  do  that  might 
keep  us  on  good  terms  with  the  invaders.     The  work 


LEARNING  A  NEW  TRADE  65 

was  hard,  indeed  after  a  time  it  became  a  sort  of 
nightmare,  for  we  had  to  supply  the  increasing  de- 
mands of  the  Boches  and  to  feed  a  lot  of  dogs  which 
the  recent  unwelcome  accessions  had  raised  to  the 
number  of  a  hundred  and  seven.  We  worked  as 
strenuously  as  we  could  to  accomplish  all  this,  and  it 
may  be  imagined  that  it  was  no  small  task.  Soon 
after  this  came  to  me  dreadful  news.  The  Mairie 
regretfully  informed  me  that  it  was  absolutely  neces- 
sary that  I  should  do  away  with  a  large  number  of 
these  animals.  It  was  most  important  that  we  should 
keep  on  furnishing  these  biscuits,  all  the  more  so  be- 
cause we  were  not  using  the  real  flour,  since  the  Ger- 
mans seemed  to  be  perfectly  satisfied  with  our  dog- 
food. 

Many  a  time  I  wondered  why  the  Colonel,  or  at  any 
rate  some  of  the  officers  under  him,  had  not  asked  for 
biscuits  made  of  the  best  flour,  since  there  was  a  large 
quantity  of  it  in  the  bakery.  I  can  only  suppose  that 
they  overlooked  it  entirely,  and  we  were  more  than 
pleased  at  their  silence,  or  their  ignorance. 

Thus  began  a  period  of  dull,  stupid,  wearisome 
toil  that  was  never  ended,  and  which  I  must  pass  over 
on  my  way  to  other  happenings. 


CHAPTER  V 

I   BECOME   A   JACK   OF   ALL   TRADES 

After  two  more  days,  during  which  my  boy  and  I 
worked  unceasingly,  the  Colonel  came  to  me  and 
asked  if  we  could  not  open  the  tobacco  shop  near  by. 
In  regard  to  this  I  may  say  that  he  had  his  command 
under  better  discipline,  and  allowed  fewer  outrages, 
than  any  other  German  officer  I  have  heard  of.  While 
invading  districts  in  which  resistance  had  been  of- 
fered the  Huns  had  put  everything  and  nearly  every 
one  to  fire  and  sword.  Through  our  place  they  had 
come  without  meeting  the  slightest  obstacles.  On  the 
whole  line  they  were  conquerors.  A  few  of  the  more 
humane  officers  could  afford  to  treat  the  populations 
half  decently,  especially  when,  like  our  own,  they 
consisted  of  perhaps  a  score  of  feeble  and  crippled 
people.  It  was  only  when  they  became  conscious 
that  they  were  repulsed  that  all  of  their  savagery  was 
aroused  in  our  part  of  France.  Their  first  defeat 
called  for  merciless  and  sanguinary  reprisals,  car- 
ried out  as  usual  upon  the  defenceless. 

The  colonel  told  me  that  if  I  could  open  the  shop 

66 


I  BECOME  A  JACK  OF  ALL  TRADES  67 

it  would  save  him  the  trouble  of  having  it  broken  into, 
and  I  told  him  I  would  try  to  get  into  it  from  the  rear. 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  he,  "I  remember  the  way.  I  have 
many  a  time  gone  out  at  the  back  door  as  the  gen- 
darmes were  coming  in  at  the  front.  We  used  to 
play  billiards  there,  and  a  good  many  exciting  games 
of  cards.  You  see  that  I  know  the  ropes  pretty  well, 
but  in  my  position  I  don't  think  I  care  to  go  around 
there.  Get  to  work  and  see  what  you  can  do  in  the 
way  of  getting  at  this  tobacco.  I'll  wait  for  you  in 
front.  My  men  are  getting  impatient  and  are  deter- 
mined to  have  it,  and  I  can't  be  watching  them  every 
minute.     It  will  be  best  for  you  to  get  at  it  for  them." 

The  man  knew  very  well  that  if  his  soldiers  broke 
in  the  place  would  be  looted  in  a  few  minutes  and  that 
a  great  deal  of  the  stuff  would  be  wasted.  It  was 
good  policy  on  his  part  to  prefer  an  orderly  distribu- 
tion. I  complied  at  once  with  his  instructions  and 
got  over  the  back  door.  The  proprietor's  wife  was 
upstairs,  an  elderly  woman  living  like  the  others  in 
constant  terror.  I  persuaded  her  to  come  down  and 
open  the  front  door,  telling  her  that  it  would  be 
smashed  in  if  she  hesitated  long.  Her  fright  was 
such  that  she  begged  me  to  stand  by  her  while  she 
served  out  the  tobacco  and  I  assured  her  that  I  would. 

We  got  the  front  door  open  and  four  men  came  in, 
with  the  Colonel.  They  asked  for  cigars,  tobacco, 
snufF  and  bottled  beer,  all  of  which  they  paid  for. 


68        FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

I  was  told  to  instruct  this  woman  that  she  must  under 
no  consideration  close  the  place,  and  that  if  she 
obeyed  everything  would  be  paid  for. 

The  poor  woman  was  nearly  distracted;  she  spent 
her  spare  moments  in  trembling  and  bewailing  her 
fate,  having  been  terribly  impressed  by  all  the  tales 
the  refugees  had  told  us.  At  last  she  realized,  how- 
ever, that  there  was  no  immediate  danger  and  that  her 
stock  would  be  paid  for.  I  finally  left  her  much 
comforted.  In  spite  of  her  fears  she  had  proved  her- 
self an  observant  woman.  Glancing  at  the  Colonel, 
she  whispered  that  she  had  certainly  seen  the  man 
before,  adding  that  this  could  scarcely  be  possible 
and  that  she  must  be  imagining  it.  I  volunteered  no 
information,  however,  fearing  that  the  Colonel  might 
not  like  it.  Experience  was  teaching  me  constantly 
that  it  was  best  to  hold  my  tongue  and  be  reticent  in 
regard  to  everything. 

On  the  following  morning  thirty  to  forty  men 
crowded  in  for  cigars,  cigarettes  and  tobacco.  I  hur- 
ried there  from  the  bakery,  where  I  was  working  in 
scanty  garb,  owing  to  the  heat  of  the  ovens.  To  make 
myself  presentable  I  slipped  on  an  old  overcoat  and 
went  behind  the  counter,  forthwith  graduating  as  a 
tobacco  salesman.  New  trades  were  being  forced 
upon  me  daily,  it  seemed  to  me,  and  it  was  no  joke. 
I  often  wonder  now  how  I  managed  to  keep  so  many 
irons  in  the  fire  and  attend  to  them  all,     I  had  to 


I  BECOME  A  JACK  OF  ALL  TRADES  69 

wander  about  the  country  in  the  capacity  of  dog- 
poisoner  and  to  rush  back  and  attend  to  the  duties  of 
a  bartender.  At  other  times  I  was  instructed  to  carry 
various  messages  around,  or  to  ride  off  on  my  bicycle 
on  tours  of  investigation.  And  ever  the  bakery 
awaited  me,  demanding  every  other  minute  of  my 
time.     My  lot  was  not  an  easy  one. 

On  the  third  day  more  Germans  came  into  the  to- 
bacco shop  for  supplies,  for  which  they  paid  a  hun- 
dred and  twenty-five  marks  that  morning.  A  ser- 
geant who  was  with  them  called  me  aside  and  told 
me  he  wanted  to  have  a  word  with  me.  He  drew  me 
into  a  comer  of  the  room  and  asked: 

"Are  you  not  Fred  Mitchell,  the  jockey,  and  haven't 
you  been  riding  in  Belgium  and  at  Baden-Baden?" 

I  answered  that  I  was  the  man,  and  he  surprised 
me  by  the  extent  of  his  information  about  me: 

"You're  one  of  the  luckiest  fellows  in  this  country," 
he  told  me.  "Your  coming  across  the  Colonel  has 
made  a  great  difference,  I  can  tell  you,  and  given  you 
a  chance  to  keep  a  whole  skin.  He  has  told  us  that 
you  were  his  friend  and  that  you  always  helped  any 
one  you  could  oblige.  A  lot  of  us  know  what  racing 
is  and  I  hope  you'll  keep  on  the  right  side  of  our  men. 
They  know  how  well  the  Colonel  is  disposed  towards 
you  and  he  has  directed  them  to  always  ask  you  for 
anything  they  want,  knowing  that  you  will  get  it  for 
them  if  possible." 


70        FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

This  added  to  my  sense  of  security,  though  it  by  no 
means  lessened  my  heavy  responsibilities.  On  the 
following  day  new  troops  came  in,  and  five  hundred 
bicycles  and  horses  were  in  our  midst.  These  men 
who  were  passing  through  were  engaged  in  scout  duty. 
Before  leaving  they  crowded  into  the  tobacco  shop 
and  cleared  the  place  of  everything  there  was  in 
the  way  of  drinks,  cigars,  tobacco  and  cigarettes. 
Neither  did  they  fail  to  invade  my  bakery,  which  they 
swept  clean  of  every  biscuit  I  had.  My  poor  dogs, 
therefore,  had  to  be  put  on  half  rations  that  evening, 
and  it  was  a  small  allowance  indeed.  It  meant  that 
I  should,  after  a  strenuous  day,  have  to  toil  all  night 
at  my  baking.  I  managed  to  turn  out  a  new  supply, 
but  towards  the  last  of  my  work  I  was  so  utterly  ex- 
hausted that  I  practically  fell  asleep  while  standing 
on  my  feet.  Finally  I  was  forced  to  lie  down  on  the 
bare  boards  for  an  hour  or  so.  When  I  awoke  I  was 
dismayed  to  find  that  two  hours  had  gone  by.  My 
poor  boy  was  also  asleep  and  I  had  not  the  courage 
to  disturb  him,  so  I  set  to  work  again  to  turn  out 
more  biscuits. 

Shortly  after  this  more  German  soldiers  came 
through  our  place  and  invaded  the  tobacco  shop, 
loudly  demanding  a  supply  of  smoking  materials. 
The  poor  woman  despairingly  assured  them  that  the 
place  had  been  sw^ept  clean,  but  one  of  the  fellows 
gruffly  commanded  her  to  get  more,  no  matter  where, 


I  BECOME  A  JACK  OF  ALL  TRADES  71 

accompanying  his  order  with  all  manner  of  threats. 
They  seemed  to  think  we  could  produce  such  things 
at  will,  much  as  conjurors  take  things  out  of  a  previ- 
ously empty  top-hat.  The  sobbing  woman  implored 
me  to  see  what  I  could  do  and  I  jumped  on  my  bicycle, 
taking  an  empty  sack  with  me,  and  started  on  the 
road  to  Chomour.  Reaching  this  village,  I  discov- 
ered an  old  man  who  used  to  sell  tobacco  before  the 
war  and  explained  our  predicament  to  him.  I  told 
him  that  the  Germans  would  very  soon  find  out  his 
place  and,  if  he  had  any  tobacco,  would  be  sure  to 
loot  it  all.  I  assured  him  that  it  would  be  best  for 
him  to  let  me  have  the  stuff,  as  I  would  guarantee 
payment  for  it.  He  promptly  realized  that  if  they 
should  search  his  place  and  discover  his  tobacco  they 
would  confiscate  it  at  once,  and  probably  commit  far 
worse  outrages.  I  packed  two  sacks  full  of  his  goods, 
clearing  him  out  of  everything  he  had,  and  rode  away 
with  my  clumsy  load.  When  I  reached  Gouvieux 
again  and  delivered  it  to  the  distracted  woman,  her 
emotion  was  so  great  that  she  could  hardly  utter  a 
word.  Her  silence,  however,  was  more  expressive 
than  all  the  thanks  she  could  have  spoken  and  her 
gratitude  was  unbounded. 

Indeed,  the  only  comfort  I  had  in  those  strenuous 
days  was  in  the  consciousness  that  I  could  help  a 
good  many  poor  people  and  gain  their  respect  and 
esteem.     They  were  drawn  very  closely  to  me  by  all 


72        FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

that  I  contrived  to  do  for  them  and  the  feeling  was  a 
gratifying  one  indeed.  Even  now  I  am  compelled  to 
acknowledge  that  these  recollections  afford  me  pleas- 
ant moments. 

The  Boches  returned  promptly  on  the  following 
day  and  truculently  inquired  whether  their  orders  had 
been  carried  out.  I  went  out  with  an  officer  who  had 
come  for  me  and  told  him  that  I  had  visited  every 
likely  place  and  had  brought  everything  I  could  carry 
away.  Also  I  promised  that  if  I  could  discover  any 
further  source  of,  supply  I  would  take  advantage 
of  it  immediately.  The  only  thanks  he  thought  fit  to 
reward  me  with  was  a  grufif:  "Very  well!  See  that 
you  do!" 

He  was  a  man  of  a  coarser  type  than  those  who  had 
been  around  us  previously.  As  new  troops  kept  on 
passing  through  I  had  to  deal  with  different  men  every 
day,  most  of  whom  deemed  boorishness  and  uncouth 
behaviour  as  desirable  attainments.  Over  some  of 
them  a  thin  veneer  of  civilization  has  been  spread, 
artificially  as  it  would  seem,  but  the  breed  appears 
to  be  a  special  one  in  which  coarseness  is  ingrained. 

I  asked  this  man  if  he  would  kindly  look  at  the 
sign  over  my  door,  and  his  demeanour  changed  at 
once.     He  immediately  saluted  me  and  spoke  out: 

"Oh!     Very  well!     I  won't  forget  you  now." 

He  ordered  his  men  to  march  back  at  once  and  they 
saluted  when  they  passed  the  door.     After  this  they 


I  BECOME  A  JACK  OF  ALL  TRADES     73 

went  around  the  church  and,  when  they  reached  a 
point  about  800  yards  away  on  the  other  side  of  my 
house,  turned  back  and  went  on  their  way.  For  the 
life  of  me  I  could  not  at  first  fathom  the  object  of  this 
extraordinary  move.  To  pass  away  around  the  back 
of  the  house  seemed  absolutely  ridiculous  and  unnec- 
essary. It  was  only  afterwards  that  I  supposed  they 
did  it  for  the  purpose  of  recognizing  the  place  from 
every  angle,  so  that  they  might  always  easily  find  it 
and  perhaps  avoid  any  molestation.  At  any  rate 
they  made  their  turn  and,  reaching  the  tobacco-shop, 
the  sergeant  pulled  up  his  men,  who  came  to  a  halt. 
The  poor  woman  signalled  to  me  and  I  immediately 
walked  across  to  her  place.  In  a  few  moments  all 
the  supplies  I  had  procured  disappeared,  and  she 
requested  me  to  ask  the  officer  whether  she  was  to 
continue  to  keep  the  place  open,  since  nothing  was 
left  to  dispose  of.  When  I  put  this  question  to  the 
officer  his  reply  came  at  once: 

"Yes,  tell  her  she  must  continue  to  keep  it  open. 
If  she  doesn't  other  men  may  pass  by  and  see  that  it 
is  a  tobacco  shop.  Should  it  be  closed  they  would 
probably  burst  their  way  in  and  cause  a  lot  of  trouble. 
I  will  see  to  it  that  as  many  as  possible  are  informed 
that  there  is  no  tobacco  left  in  this  village  nor  in  the 
two  or  three  adjoining  ones.  That's  the  best  I  can 
do  for  you." 

With  this  assurance  he  left  me. 


74         FRED  MITCHELL'S  WAR  STORY 

At  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning  I  used  to  go  over  to 
a  small  farm  house  situated  about  a  thousand  yards 
away  from  my  house.  There  I  was  generally  able  to 
obtain  some  milk  for  my  dogs.  The  place  was  man- 
aged by  an  old  man  and  his  wife,  who  had  a  crippled 
son.  It  was  my  custom  to  make  this  little  run  on  my 
wheel,  with  a  large  milk-can  tied  to  each  handlebar. 
I  would  ride  over  there  and  trundle  the  wheel  back, 
since  this  was  easier  than  carrying  the  cans.  On  this 
particular  day  I  was  passing  what  we  call  the  small 
square  in  which  a  number  of  roads  intersect,  radiating 
off"  to  Pressy,  Lamorlaye,  Boran,  Senlis,  Chantilly 
and  Creil.  A  small  cafe  stood  on  this  square,  and  as 
I  approached  two  officers  hurried  out  of  it  and  com- 
manded me  to  stop.  I  immediately  jumped  off  my 
bicycle  and  they  began  to  speak  with  me,  telling  me 
that  they  wanted  me  to  show  them  the  way  to  Lamor- 
laye. 

"Certainly,"  I  answered;  "all  you  have  to  do  is  to 
keep  straight  along  this  road.  You  can't  possibly 
stray  from  it  unless  you  jump  over  the  fences  or 
hedges." 

"That's  not  what  we  want,"  one  of  them  answered. 
"You  are  to  lead  the  way  there  on  your  bicycle. 
Keep  in  front  of  us  all  the  time." 

"What  shall  I  do  about  my  milk?"  I  asked. 

"We  will  send  a  man  over  to  get  it  and  take  it  to 
your  house,"  he  answered. 


I  BECOME  A  JACK  OF  ALL  TRADES  75 

I  saw  that  I  had  no  choice  in  the  matter  and  ex- 
pressed my  readiness  to  obey  their  orders. 

"We  have  an  Englishman  who  will  attend  to  the 
milk,"  he  told  me. 

The  man  he  referred  to  came  out  of  the  cafe,  and 
to  my  surprise,  I  recognized  him  as  an  individual 
who  used  to  work  on  a  small  stud  farm  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood and  whom  I  knew  very  well.  He  took  the 
cans  and  I  told  him  all  about  the  milk,  pointing  to  my 
house,  which  he  knew  as  well  as  L 

I  resumed  my  talk  with  the  officers  and  was  giving 
them  elaborate  directions  about  the  road  they  were 
about  to  follow  me  on,  when  my  acquaintance  the 
Colonel  approached  our  little  group,  in  quite  a 
friendly  way,  and  asked  me  what  we  were  talking 
about.  He  wanted  to  know  whether  there  was  any 
trouble. 

"No  trouble  at  all  Colonel,"  I  replied.  "I've  only 
been  telling  these  gentlemen  about  the  road  to  Lamor- 
laye.  They  have  told  me  to  lead  them  there  on  my 
bicycle.  I  told  them  they  couldn't  miss  their  way, 
since,  as  you  know  very  well,  the  road  is  a  perfectly 
straight  one." 

"Yes,  I  know  it  perfectly  well,"  he  answered. 
"But  I  want  you  to  go  on,  ahead  of  these  men.  I 
have  my  own  reasons  for  this.  Get  on  your  bicycle 
and  keep  about  a  hundred  and  fifty  yards  in  front  of 
them." 


76        FRED  MITCHELLS  WAR  STORY 

In  an  undertone  he  went  on: 

"You  stick  to  a  three  minute  gait  and  don't  you 
dare  look  back." 

By  this  he  meant  that  I  should  go  at  a  fairly  mod- 
erate gait,  as  the  term  is  one  used  in  the  paddocks  to 
indicate  a  fair  rate  such  as  is  adopted  in  exercising 
racing  horses. 

At  first  the  Colonel's  orders  puzzled  me  a  little,  but 
I  soon  imderstood  that  it  was  a  precaution  they  were 
taking  against  suddenly  meeting  French  troops. 

"You  are  to  keep  straight  on  as  if  you  were  an 
apprentice  on  his  first  ride,"  he  went  on.  "You  know 
the  lads  were  told  to  go  straight  ahead,  looking  neither 
to  the  right  or  left  till  they  passed  the  winning  post." 

I  imderstood  that  I  must  not  turn  till  I  had  reached 
Lamorlaye  and  the  racing  establishment  of  Mr. 
Drury,  the  American  owner  of  race-horses,  and  I 
began  to  lead  the  way  until  we  reached  the  stables, 
where  I  jumped  off.  When  the  Colonel  came  along 
I  told  them  that  these  were  the  Drury  stables,  a  fact 
he  was  perfectly  aware  of. 

"Yes,  that's  all  right,"  he  answered.  "Do  you 
think  there  are  any  horses  here  that  we  could  use  for 
the  army?" 

"I  hardly  think  so,"  I  replied.  "The  only  horses 
left  are  two  year  olds  and  yearlings  that  would  be  of 
no  use  to  your  men,  at  any  rate  this  year.  It  might 
be  best  for  you  to  go  through  the  stables  and  see  for 


I  BECOME  A  JACK  OF  ALL  TRADES  77 

yourself,  because  there  might  be  one  or  two  animals  I 
am  not  familiar  with.  I  don't  want  you  to  blame  me 
if  you  find  that  my  information  is  not  quite  correct." 

"Very  well,"  he  agreed.  "You  will  go  with  me 
into  some  of  the  stables  and  we  will  see  what  we  can 
find." 

He  called  six  of  his  men  to  accompany  us  and  we 
went  around  to  several  of  the  stables.  I  waited  out- 
side while  they  were  searching  for  horses,  for  there 
was  not  the  slightest  need  of  my  directing  them. 
They  knew  the  various  places  just  as  well  as  I,  if  not 
better. 

Shortly  afterwards  he  took  me  to  a  breeding  estab- 
lishment. 

"We  might  find  one  or  two  that  they  have  turned 
out  into  the  paddocks  to  convey  the  impression  that 
they  are  for  breeding  purposes,"  he  told  me. 

In  this  place  there  was  a  mare  of  my  own  and  an- 
other belonging  to  my  friend  Mr.  B.,  and  this  fact 
made  me  feel  rather  uncomfortable.  I  supposed  that 
the  men  would  immediately  pick  out  these  two  ani- 
mals. But  they  drove  them  off  into  a  comer  and  the 
Colonel  beckoned  me  to  come  over  to  him. 

"Look  here,  Mitchell,"  he  asked;  "isn't  that  one  of 
yours?" 

I  admitted  that  it  was  my  property  and  he  asked 
me  if  there  was  anything  the  matter  with  the  animal. 
I  answered  that  there  was  not,  but  that  I  thought  she 


78         FRED  MITCHELL'S  WAR  STORY 

could  hardly  be  of  any  use  for  the  army  because  she 
was  very  easily  excited.  I  told  him  that  his  own 
experience  with  her  would  confirm  my  statement. 

"Well,  what  about  the  other  one?"  he  asked. 

"Don't  you  think  her  too  big  and  clumsy?"  I  re- 
plied. "I  should  hardly  think  she  would  be  suit- 
able." 

"I'm  not  so  sure  about  that,"  answered  the  Colonel. 

In  an  effort  to  gain  a  point  I  told  him  to  use  his 
own  judgment,  adding  that  I  did  not  wish  to  influence 
his  actions. 

He  made  no  reply,  examining  the  horses  very  care- 
fully and  appearing  to  do  a  lot  of  thinking.  Finally 
he  turned  to  me : 

"Never  mind,  Monsieur  Mitchell,  I  think  we'll 
leave  them  both  here  and  take  the  matter  up  again 
later  on." 

From  that  place  we  went  over  to  another  stable  and, 
on  our  way,  he  spoke  again: 

"I'm  not  going  to  take  your  mare,  Mitchell,  and  I'll 
give  orders  that  she  is  not  to  be  taken  by  any  one  else." 

I  thanked  him  for  his  consideration  and  was 
greatly  pleased,  naturally  enough.  I  could  ill  aff'ord 
to  lose  the  mare  and  was  glad  indeed  that  it  was 
spared.  We  continued  our  search  from  stable  to  sta- 
ble, but  everywhere  he  was  disappointed,  finding  noth- 
ing that  could  be  of  any  use  to  him.  Finally  he 
turned  to  me  and  told  me  I  might  go  back  to  Gouvieux. 


I  BECOME  A  JACK  OF  ALL  TRADES  79 

After  I  had  thanked  him  again  and  gone  on  a  few 
paces  towards  my  bicycle  the  idea  struck  me  that  it 
was  more  than  likely  that  I  would  meet  other  soldiers 
on  my  way  back  and  that  they  might  make  it  hard  for 
me  to  reach  my  home.  Should  I  be  questioned  they 
might  refuse  to  believe  that  I  had  been  acting  as  a 
guide  to  the  Colonel,  and  there  was  no  proof  that  I 
could  offer.  In  this  dilemma  I  returned  to  him  for 
advice.  As  soon  as  I  explained  the  situation  to  him 
he  searched  his  pocket  and  pulled  out  a  few  cards — 
of  about  the  size  of  a  postal — and  wrote  something  on 
both  sides,  to  the  effect  that  I  was  not  to  be  stopped 
and  that  I  should  be  permitted  to  pass  through  the 
lines.     He  also  signed  both  sides  of  the  card. 

I  was  delighted  at  this,  feeling  that  the  document 
might  be  an  invaluable  one  to  me  and  realizing  that 
it  might  solve  many  a  difficulty  later  on.  There  was 
a  drawback,  however,  in  the  fact  that  if  I  should 
come  across  any  French  soldiers  in  the  woods  or  on 
the  neighbouring  roads,  things  might  go  hard  with  me. 
I  considered  the  fact  that  they  might  arrest  me  as  a 
spy  and  accuse  me  of  having  assisted  the  Germans  in 
leading  them  to  Lamorlaye.  The  possession  of  this 
card  would  be  bound  to  confirm  them  in  this  belief. 

I  was  relieved  at  the  partial  protection  it  afforded 
me,  however,  and  little  realized  at  the  time  how  in- 
valuable it  was  to  prove.  But  for  this  card  I  could 
never  have  undertaken  the  journeys  I  shall  speak  of 


80        FRED  MITCHELLS  WAR  STORY 

further  on,  and  it  certainly  saved  my  life  on  several 
occasions  when  I  thought  that  my  last  moment  had 
come.  Of  all  the  mementoes  I  have  gathered  during 
the  course  of  those  strenuous  months,  it  is  the  one  I 
value  most,  and  my  wife  shares  in  this  estimation. 
She  has  placed  it  in  safekeeping  to  be  framed  after 
the  war. 


CHAPTER  VI 

I   PREPARE   FOR  A   JOURNEY 

I  SHALL  here  take  the  liberty  of  telling  my  readers 
that  I  have  ridden  in  the  fastest  mile  in  England,  at 
the  races  at  Lingfield.  I  have  also  been  in  racing 
automobiles  and  have  had  a  number  of  flights  in  aero- 
planes, so  that  I  am  a  fair  judge  of  speed.  The  dis- 
tance between  Lamorlaye  and  Gouvieux  is  something 
over  two  miles,  on  a  very  good  road.  I  honestly 
think  this  distance  was  never  covered  by  cyclist  or 
auto  or  steed,  in  fact  by  anything  but  possibly  a  bird, 
at  the  rate  my  fears  urged  me  to  keep  up.  I  was 
neither  anxious  to  meet  Germans  or  French  on  my 
return  journey. 

I  found  a  number  of  my  friends  at  my  door. 
Among  them  was  the  priest,  the  secretary  from  the 
mayor's  office,  and  several  others.  They  had  all 
been  enquiring  what  had  become  of  me  and  were  all 
most  anxious  about  me.  Some  of  them  despaired  of 
seeing  me  again.  They  knew  I  had  been  taken  away 
by  the  soldiers  and  feared  that  the  worst  had  hap- 
pened to  me.    When  they  caught  sight  of  me  as  I 

81 


82        FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

came  around  the  comer  on  my  wheel  they  leaped  for 
very  joy.  I  dismounted  and  sank  on  a  chair.  Fully 
ten  minutes  elapsed  before  I  could  recover  my  breath 
and  speak  distinctly.  At  last  I  was  able  to  explain 
what  had  happened  and  related  my  experience  since  I 
had  left,  some  four  hours  previously.  I  was  very 
careful  to  say  nothing  about  the  card  I  had  obtained, 
however,  and,  at  this  time,  did  not  mention  it  even  to 
my  wife.     I  christened  it  my  "German  Passport." 

After  I  was  rested  I  went  in  the  house  and  told  my 
son  that  I  thought  I  would  go  for  a  little  walk.  The 
dogs  had  been  so  greatly  deprived  of  any  exercise 
that  some  of  them  were  acting  peculiarly.  They  were 
all  exceedingly  restless.  I  decided  to  take  about  a 
dozen  of  them  out  with  me  for  a  run.  Among  them 
were  three  very  large  Irish  wolfhounds  and  a  couple 
of  big  deerhounds.  The  remainder  were  chiefly  Aire- 
dales. My  son  Freddie  took  the  smaller  dogs  and  I 
looked  after  the  large  ones.  All  of  them  were  de- 
lighted at  the  prospect  of  a  little  exercise.  We  would 
gladly  have  turned  them  loose,  but  were  afraid  they 
might  be  shot  if  they  came  unaware  across  some 
German  soldiers. 

We  went  around  by  the  road  to  Lies,  and  came  to 
cross-roads  where  two  or  three  Germans  were  on 
guard.  They  spoke  to  us  pleasantly  enough  and 
seemed  to  be  greatly  interested  in  the  dogs,  asking 
me  all  sorts  of  questions  in  regard  to  their  various 


I  PREPARE  FOR  A  JOURNEY  83 

breeds  and  where  they  came  from.  I  told  them  all 
they  wished  to  know.  One  of  these  men  knew  where 
my  house  was  situated  and  recognized  me  at  once, 
saluting.  I  was  glad  of  this,  as  it  put  me  more  at 
ease.  We  continued  to  talk  for  some  time  about  the 
dogs,  as  the  soldiers  plied  me  with  more  questions. 
I  was  glad  enough  to  answer,  of  course,  since  one  had 
to  be  civil  to  these  fellows.  One  of  them  appeared 
to  be  particularly  interested.  He  wore  the  stripes  of 
a  corporal.  Very  soon  he  expressed  a  desire  for  one 
of  the  Airedales,  or  for  a  puppy,  which  he  wanted  to 
send  back  to  his  country.  I  had  to  tell  him  that  if 
he  wanted  one  he  could  have  it,  and  that  there  were 
some  puppies  in  my  paddocks  that  he  could  choose 
from. 

I  had  learned  to  miss  no  opportunity  of  ingratiating 
myself  with  these  men.  It  is  hardly  worth  while  to 
say  that  my  motive  was  always  an  ulterior  one — the 
possibility  of  being  able  to  be  of  assistance  in  keep- 
ing them  from  molesting  us  or  the  other  villagers. 
Moreover  I  knew  perfectly  well  that  if  this  corporal 
really  wanted  one  of  my  dogs  he  would  take  it  with 
or  without  permission.  Hence  it  was  better  to  offer 
it  as  cheerfully  as  I  could. 

One  of  these  fellows  asked  me  if  any  of  these  dogs 
would  hunt  and  pick  up  rabbits  or  pheasants  for 
them.  I  had  to  tell  them  that  they  had  not  been 
trained  for  such  work,  since  it  was  against  the  laws  in 


84        FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

this  district.  I  explained  that  they  were  only  show- 
dogs,  and  that  many  of  them  had  won  prizes.  I  also 
told  them  that  they  were  quite  clever  enough  to  be 
trained  for  sporting  purposes.  Since  I  took  no  inter- 
est in  that  branch  of  the  business,  I  added,  the  animals 
knew  nothing  about  it,  but,  being  young,  would  l^am 
very  rapidly. 

The  corporal  said  that  he  would  be  glad  to  have 
me  show  him  over  the  kennels  and  I  told  him  I  would 
take  pleasure  in  so  doing.  We  parted  in  very 
friendly  fashion  and  I  started  for  the  road  leading  to 
Pressy.  After  we  had  proceeded  for  about  a  mile 
and  a  half  we  came  to  other  crossroads,  one  of  which 
led  to  Pressy.  We  had  only  gone  a  short  distance 
when  we  came  across  another  party  of  Germans,  who 
stopped  us  and  asked  us  in  what  direction  we  were 
going.  I  told  them  where  we  were  bound,  explaining 
where  we  had  come  from.  These  fellows  also  ad- 
mired the  dogs  and  one  man  dismounted  from  his 
horse  to  have  a  better  look  at  them.  He  asked  me 
whether  they  would  be  apt  to  bite  him.  I  assured 
him  he  was  quite  safe  as  they  would  never  touch  him 
under  the  present  conditions,  but  that  in  their  own 
home  they  would  be  inclined  to  be  rather  vicious,  as 
they  were  excellent  watchdogs.  The  larger  of  these 
animals  were  tremendous  things,  more  like  donkeys 
than  dogs,  in  size.  One  of  the  soldiers  declared  that 
he  wo^ild  not  like  to  enter  my  place  and  meet  such 


I  PREPARE  FOR  A  JOURNEY  85 

brutes.  He  laughed  at  this  and  said  to  his  compan- 
ions that  it  would  be  well  to  locate  our  place  in  order 
to  avoid  it. 

We  were  allowed  to  start  home  again.  As  soon  as 
we  reached  Gouvieux  I  heard  that  the  Colonel  had 
been  inquiring  for  me  at  my  house.  My  wife  had 
informed  him  that  I  had  started  off  for  a  walk  with 
my  son  and  some  of  the  dogs.  He  asked  her  in  what 
direction  I  ha<l  gone  and  she  told  him  that  she  could 
not  tell  him  exactly,  though  she  thought  it  likely  that  I 
had  gone  towards  Lies  and  Press^. 

My  son  and  I  went  around  to  one  side  of  the  church 
and  there  we  met  him.  He  got  off  his  horse  and, 
turning  it  over  to  a  soldier,  came  over  to  where  I 
stood  opposite  the  church  door,  greeting  me  with  a 
pleasant  "Good  morning."  I  saluted  and  said, 
"Good  morning,  Colonel." 

"You  have  a  fine  lot  of  dogs  there,  Mitchell,"  he 
told  me.  "I  have  seen  them  before  and  I  wonder 
that  they  allow  you  to  keep  them  now." 

"Well,"  I  answered,  "there  is  no  one  to  prevent 
me  from  so  doing  at  present,  except  yourself." 

"You  know  I  wouldn't  order  you  to  destroy  them," 
he  told  me.  "I'm  quite  aware  of  how  fond  you  are 
of  them." 

I  thanked  him  and,  during  the  course  of  conversa- 
tion, he  told  me  that  they  would  want  more  biscuits 
very  soon.     At  this  news  my  heart  sank  into  my  boots. 


86        FRED  MITCHELLS  WAR  STORY 

The  thought  that  I  must  return  to  that  awful  task  and 
help  feed  an  army  of  men  was  anything  but  a  pleas- 
ant one.  But  of  course  we  always  tried  to  please 
these  people  and  to  carry  out  all  their  orders,  since  it 
might  save  trouble  in  the  end.  After  this  he  in- 
formed me  that  he  wanted  to  see  me  on  the  following 
morning  in  regard  to  explaining  to  the  authorities 
some  facts  about  an  army  that  would  soon  be  coming 
this  way.     Then  he  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  away. 

He  did  not  come  before  ten  o'clock  on  the  following 
morning.  Fifty  thousand  soldiers,  he  informed  me, 
were  expected  to  reach  Chantilly  very  soon.  The 
Crown  Prince  was  to  be  with  this  army.  I  was  to 
try  to  inform  all  the  inhabitants  that  they  must  on  no 
account  close  their  doors.  Everything  must  be  left 
open  so  that  the  men  might  walk  in  freely.  Any  hin- 
drance offered  to  this  would  be  severely  punished. 
He  assured  me  that  this  was  the  only  safe  course  to 
follow,  for  as  soon  as  the  men  discovered  that  every- 
thing was  open  and  that  they  could  have  a  free  hand 
and  go  wherever  they  wanted  to,  they  would  be  apt  to 
disturb  no  one.  The  Crown  Prince,  he  informed  me 
also,  expected  to  occupy  the  chateau  with  his  staff. 

A  day  or  two  later  I  went  over  to  the  mayor's  office, 
where  I  found  the  officials  greatly  distressed  and  badly 
worried.  There  was  no  means  of  their  communicat- 
ing with  Paris,  and  these  men  were  in  despair.  The 
fifty  thousand  Germans,  they  knew,  were  getting  very 


I  PREPARE  FOR  A  JOURNEY  87 

close  to  Chantilly.  They  gave  me  to  understand  that 
the  mayor  at  Chantilly  had  been  visited  by  the  Crown 
Prince  and  had  been  compelled  to  show  him  the  Grand 
Chateau  of  the  Duke  of  Chartres.  It  had  been  his 
unpleasant  duty  to  accompany  the  Prince  to  the  cha- 
teau on  a  tour  of  inspection,  and  the  latter  had  signi- 
fied his  intention  of  making  his  headquarters  there. 

There  was  not  a  soul  to  take  a  message  to  Paris 
and  they  did  not  know  what  to  do.  They  felt  that 
the  fate  of  the  city  might  depend  on  this  move.  In  a 
moment  I  had  sized  up  the  situation.  It  was  now  a 
matter  of  life  and  death  and  some  one  must  go  to 
Paris  with  the  news.  I  volunteered  to  make  the  trip 
on  my  bicycle  if  they  would  give  me  a  safe  convoy 
through  the  French  lines.     The  official  stared  at  me. 

"There  will  be  no  trouble  about  the  French,"  he 
told  me.  "It  is  the  Germans  who  will  prevent  you 
from  passing." 

I  merely  answered  that  they  would  have  to  leave 
that  to  me. 

I  don't  think  I  can  ever  forget  the  frenzied  condi- 
tion of  the  poor  man's  mind.  He  broke  down  and 
began  to  cry  like  a  child. 

"Mitchell,"  he  sobbed,  "if  you  only  could  know 
what  it  would  mean  to  get  a  message  over  to  Paris! 
It  might  be  the  means  of  saving  thousands  upon  thou- 
sands of  soldiers,  not  to  speak  of  civilians!" 

But  he  could  not  agree  to  let  me  go.     He  assured 


88         FRED  MITCHELL'S  WAR  STORY 

me  that  the  danger  was  too  great  and  that  my  life 
would  be  uselessly  sacrificed.  The  danger  was  too 
great.  It  was  insurmountable.  But  I  was  deter- 
mined and,  as  I  kept  on  insisting,  he  finally  said  that 
if  I  went  I  must  do  so  on  my  own  responsibility  and 
at  my  own  risk. 

By  this  time  I  was  firmly  resolved  to  go.  It  was 
the  one  and  only  thing  to  be  done  at  this  moment. 
When  I  thought  of  all  that  was  at  stake  I  could  not 
hesitate.  Finally  I  told  him  that  I  would  start  and 
take  my  boy  Freddie  with  me. 

Risking  my  boy's  life  was  a  bitter  chance  to  take, 
but  I  do  not  speak  French  very  fluently  and  hardly 
saw  my  way  to  carry  out  my  plan  without  his  aid. 
His  mere  presence  might  make  us  less  amenable  to 
suspicion,  we  thought.  I  knew  that  I  might  have 
nearly  as  much  trouble  in  traversing  the  French  lines 
as  the  German  ones,  and  his  fluent  knowledge  of  the 
language  must  be  of  the  greatest  assistance. 

I  returned  home,  slowly,  thinking  over  this  under- 
taking and  knowing  how  my  announcement  would  be 
received  by  my  wife  and  daughter.  They  would 
allow  me  to  go,  I  knew,  and  the  mother  would  spare 
her  son,  but  the  heartache  I  must  inflict  on  her  made 
me  very  sad.  I  could  picture  her  worry  and  fear 
during  all  the  time  that  would  elapse  before  my  re- 
turn. But  something  had  to  be  done,  and  no  others 
could  possibly  undertake  this  journey. 


CHAPTER  VII 

GETTING   THROUGH 

In  this  anxious  state  of  mind  I  reached  my  home, 
dreading  the  ordeal  of  explaining  everything  to  my 
wife  and  daughter.  They  saw  that  something  of  im- 
portance was  on  my  mind  and  questioned  me.  Some- 
what nervously,  I  must  confess,  I  told  them  what  I 
had  decided  to  do.  I  had  expected  them  to  be  dis- 
tressed and  badly  frightened  at  the  prospect  before 
me,  but  their  emotion  was  hard  to  witness.  I  sought 
to  reassure  and  comfort  them  by  telling  them  not  to 
worry,  and  that  I  was  persuaded  that  I  would  get 
through  all  right. 

Taking  my  wife  by  the  arm  I  led  her  into  another 
room,  where  we  could  talk  over  the  matter  quietly. 
I  showed  her  my  German  "passport"  and  told  her  that 
she  must  on  no  account  mention  it  to  any  one.  It  was 
best,  I  explained  to  her,  that  no  one  should  know  by 
what  means  I  might  be  permitted  to  get  through  the 
Hun  lines.  When  I  expressed  my  desire  to  take  my 
son  with  me  and  asked  whether  she  would  spare  him  I 
saw  that  it  was  a  blow  that  struck  her  hard.  To  my 
surprise,  however,  she  consented,  readily  but  sorrow- 

89 


90         FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

fully,  realizing  that  my  French  was  insufficient  to 
carry  me  through  if  long  explanations  had  to  be  made. 
No  one  could  ever  tell  that  the  boy  was  English 
whereas  my  accent  distinguished  me  at  once.  How 
much  my  wife's  consent  cost  her  I  may  never  be  able 
to  realize.  Mothers  readily  and  bravely  give  up  their 
sons,  in  these  trying  days,  but  the  danger  is  usually 
still  far  away  and  the  chances  of  return  probably 
greater  than  they  were  in  our  case. 

I  called  in  my  son  and  we  had  a  little  heart  to  heart 
talk  over  the  matter.  I  found  the  plucky  boy  not  only 
ready  but  eager  to  start.  At  once  we  made  all  prep- 
arations for  leaving  immediately  and  packed  our  kits 
with  everything  that  might  be  needed  in  case  of  a 
breakdown.  After  this  had  been  attended  to  I  called 
at  the  mayor's  office,  where  I  was  entrusted  with  a 
very  small  piece  of  tissue  paper — a  letter — which  I 
was  instructed  to  deliver  as  soon  as  possible  to  the 
Prefect  of  Police  in  Paris.  The  important  question 
of  how  I  should  conceal  this  document  flashed  through 
my  mind  and  I  puzzled  over  it  for  a  moment.  Fi- 
nally I  pulled  off  my  right  boot  and  slipped  the  thing 
under  a  steel  arch  support  I  was  in  the  habit  of  wear- 
ing, after  which  I  laced  up  the  boot  again.  The  man 
was  rather  amazed  at  seeing  me  do  this,  but  no  time 
was  left  for  more  words.  He  shook  hands  with  me 
and  wished  me  Godspeed,  in  a  voice  that  was  shaky 
with  emotion: 


GETTING  THROUGH 91 

"France,"  he  faltered,  "will  be  proud  of  you  if  you 
prove  able  to  carry  this  through." 

What  the  real  purport  of  that  note  was  I  may 
never  know,  since  I  never  read  the  message  I  bore,  but 
I  am  very  certain  that  it  was  of  the  utmost  importance. 
Indeed  I  am  very  confident  that  it  made  it  possible  for 
tlie  high  officials  in  Paris  to  gain  headway  in  hasten- 
ing troops  to  the  front.  It  is  certain  that  they  imme- 
diately hurried  off"  every  means  of  conveyance  they 
could  put  their  hands  on  towards  the  battle  lines.  A 
host  of  automobiles,  auto-busses,  taxis,  trucks  of  all 
kinds,  hustled  off  to  the  seat  of  trouble  bearing  un- 
ending crowds  of  soldiers  and  firemen  or  laden  with 
all  the  equipment  needed  to  help  stop  the  Germans 
and  push  them  back  in  their  advance  towards  the  great 
city  the  Huns  already  deemed  within  their  grasp. 

The  boy  and  I  started  at  about  noon,  an  hour  I 
selected  because  I  thought  the  roads  might  be  fairly 
deserted  then.  The  soldiers,  I  thought,  might  be  scat- 
tered about  the  woods  preparing  food  and  taking  a 
rest.  The  day  was  a  beautiful  one,  and  so  scorching 
hot  that  we  were  glad  that  trees  shaded  the  road  on  a 
good  part  of  our  way.  We  rode  rather  slowly,  know- 
ing that  the  way  was  long  before  us  and  believing  that 
any  appearance  of  hurrying  would  more  easily  arouse 
suspicion. 

As  far  as  Lamorlaye  we  met  no  one.  The  trip 
was  beginning  auspiciously.     In  this  village,  however, 


92        FRED  MITCHELLS  WAR  STORY 

some  of  the  inhabitants  who  knew  us  called  out  that 
the  Germans  were  only  a  short  way  ahead.  They  ap- 
peared to  be  amazed  at  our  going  on,  and  cried  out 
again  that  we  were  running  into  danger. 

But  we  kept  on,  of  course,  for  about  a  mile  and  a 
half  further,  till  we  reached  the  well-known  Oak  Tree. 
This  is  a  place  of  some  historic  interest.  The  great 
tree  stands  in  the  middle  of  a  sort  of  square  at  the 
intersection  of  two  roads.  Upon  its  branches,  in 
1870,  some  men  the  invaders  captured  had  been  hung. 
In  its  shade  a  large  command,  forming  part  of  the 
German  right  wing,  had  rested  and  indulged  in  some- 
thing that  had  been  pretty  nearly  a  vast  orgy,  to  cele- 
brate their  impending  entry  into  the  capital  of  France. 

In  this  place  my  boy  and  I  came  uncomfortably 
near  to  sharing  the  fate  of  the  prisoners  of  forty-four 
years  before.  The  place  forms  a  sort  of  circle.  Sol- 
diers were  scattered  all  around  it,  and  many  others 
occupied  the  woods  surrounding  us.  Six  of  them  or- 
dered us  to  halt,  so  that  we  had  to  slow  down  and 
dismount  immediately.  With  the  uncouth  roughness 
peculiar  to  the  breed  they  asked  us  where  we  were 
going  and  for  what  purpose  we  were  traveling. 

I  was  fortunate  indeed  in  inventing,  on  the  spur  of 
the  moment,  a  plausible  excuse.  I  explained  that  we 
were  in  the  sorest  straits  for  provisions,  and  that  some 
of  the  troops  in  our  village  were  very  badly  in  need 
of  tobacco,  cigars  and  cigarettes,  and  that  we  were 


GETTING  THROUGH 93 

trying  to  get  to  Paris  to  procure  these  things,  as  well 
as  news  of  the  war.  At  this  they  seemed  to  be  rather 
interested,  but  gruffly  ordered  us  to  leave  our  bicycles 
on  the  ground  and  step  into  the  woods.  I  had  of 
course  shown  them  the  card  the  Colonel  had  given  me, 
and  they  inspected  it  with  the  greatest  care,  finally 
handing  it  back  to  me.  Their  manner,  however,  was 
by  no  means  reassuring,  and  I  shall  never  forget  the 
look  upon  my  poor  boy's  face  when  we  started  for 
those  woods.  I  am  sure  he  believed  that  our  last  hour 
had  come,  and  I  will  acknowledge  that  I  believed  the 
same  thing.  I  did  my  very  best,  however,  not  to  dis- 
play any  nervousness  or  fear,  and  believe  that  my 
efforts  were  fairly  successful. 

Harshly  they  ordered  us  both  to  take  oflf  all  our 
clothing  in  order  to  search  us. 

"If  you  have  any  papers,"  said  one  of  them,  "hand 
them  over  to  us  at  once  or  it  will  go  hard  with  you!" 

These  fellows  spoke  very  threateningly  and  I  could 
see  that  my  boy  was  in  an  agony  of  fear.  I  assured 
them  that  I  had  no  papers  whatever  excepting  some 
cards  that  they  would  find  in  my  coat-pocket,  and 
the  Colonel's  pass.  They  immediately  searched  the 
pockets  and  examined  these  cards  also,  very  closely. 
One  of  them  spied  my  jockey's  license,  and  I  am  very 
certain  that  it  was,  at  this  time,  the  means  of  saving 
our  lives.  My  photograph  was  attached  to  this  docu- 
ment and  they  could  easily  see  that  it  was  entirely 


94        FRED  MITCHELLS  WAR  STORY 

genuine.  One  or  two  of  the  men,  in  fact,  seemed 
to  have  recognized  me.  They  did  not  know  at  this 
time  that  England  had  declared  war  against  them,  and 
considered  me  as  a  neutral,  I  suppose.  After  they 
had  searched  our  coats  our  waistcoats  had  to  come  off, 
and  then  our  shirts,  all  of  which  were  inspected,  so 
that  at  last  there  remained  but  our  boots  to  be  taken 
off.  We  sat  down  to  obey  this  order,  with  such  feel- 
ings as  may  readily  be  imagined.  A  few  minutes 
more,  we  thought,  and  the  game  would  be  up  and  our 
bodies  probably  dangling  on  the  branches  of  the  fa- 
mous oak.  I  commenced  on  my  left  boot,  having 
some  little  trouble  to  unfasten  the  laces,  since  I  was 
praying  for  time.  Finally  I  pulled  the  boot  off,  and 
then  the  sock,  through  which  they  searched  with  their 
wonted  care. 

Only  the  right  one  was  left  now,  with  its  deadly 
document.  I  slowly  began  to  unlace  the  boot  and, 
turning  to  my  son,  I  spoke  to  him  as  calmly  as  I 
could. 

"It's  a  terrible  thing,"  I  told  him,  "that  these  men 
absolutely  refuse  to  take  any  notice  of  their  own  Col- 
onel's card  and  his  signatures.  As  soon  as  I  see 
him  again  and  tell  him  about  this  I  wonder  what  he 
will  say  when  he  hears  that  his  pass  was  of  no  service 
in  seeing  us  through." 

As  soon  as  I  said  this  one  of  the  men  spoke  out: 

"Get  up  and  put  on  your  clothes  again,"  he  ordered. 


GETTING  THROUGH 95 

"Shall  I  take  off  this  boot?"  I  asked. 

"No,  hurry  up  and  get  dressed." 

But  I  took  my  time  about  doing  this,  trying  in  the 
meanwhile  to  look  as  indifferent  as  possible.  Fred- 
die, however,  probably  beat  his  best  record  at  putting 
his  clothes  on.  He  had  been  deadly  pale  and,  most 
of  the  time,  I  had  looked  away  from  him  and  turned 
my  right  foot  out  of  his  sight,  that  his  anxious  looks 
might  not  betray  me. 

Then  the  man  came  to  me,  looking  somewhat  wor- 
ried, and  told  me  that  there  was  no  need  whatever  of 
saying  anything  to  the  Colonel  about  this  matter  of 
their  not  heeding  his  pass. 

"You  know  that  we  have  other  officers  that  we  must 
obey  also,"  he  said.  "You  can  go  now  as  soon  as  you 
are  ready."  j 

As  we  were  about  to  start  he  came  up  tq:me  again. 

"If  you  are  going  to  Paris  when  do  you  expect  to 
get  back  here?"  he  asked. 

I  told  him  that  we  would  do  our  very  best  to  return 
some  time  in  the  afternoon  of  the  next  day,  if  we  were 
successful  in  getting  through.  They  told  me  then  that 
they  would  be  on  duty  in  this  place  in  the  afternoon, 
about  the  time  I  had  mentioned,  and  asked  me  if  I 
could  not  manage  to  procure  some  cigarettes  for  them. 
I  assured  them  that  I  would  do  this  most  willingly, 
foreseeing  the  probable  need  of  making  more  trips 
that  way  and  anxious  to  be  as  friendly  as  possible 


96        FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

with  these  men,  I  promised  that  I  would  surely  bring 
them  a  supply  if  I  possibly  could. 

We  started  off  again,  mightily  relieved,  but  were 
pulled  up  again  after  we  had  hardly  gone  another 
mile.  Here  I  again  displayed  my  passport  from  the 
Colonel  and  the  soldiers  on  guard  angrily  asked  why 
the  men  at  the  Oak  Tree  had  not  properly  stamped  it 
to  show  that  I  must  be  allowed  to  pass  on.  Of  course 
there  was  no  explanation  that  I  could  make,  saving  to 
assure  them  I  was  very  sorry  that  this  had  been  neg- 
lected. They  discussed  the  matter  among  themselves 
for  some  time  and  finally  one  of  them  spoke  to  us: 

"All  right!     You  can  go  on!" 

Before  we  mounted,  however,  they  bombarded  me 
with  inquiries  as  to  what  I  was  going  to  do,  and  what 
was  the  business  that  caused  me  to  go,  with  a  host  of 
other  quesiions  about  myself.  I  suppose  I  acquitted 
myself  to  their  satisfaction  for  at  last  they  allowed 
us  to  go  on. 

We  kept  on  our  way,  again  breathing  freely,  until 
we  had  journeyed  for  about  an  hour.  At  times  we 
dismounted  and  led  our  wheels,  walking  up  the  steeper 
hills  to  save  ourselves  a  little.  We  passed  through 
Luzarches  and  Montaterre.  Here,  to  our  intense  sat- 
isfaction, we  came  upon  a  lot  of  French  recruits. 
There  were  thousands  and  thousands  training  through- 
out all  the  outlying  districts.  As  we  rode  on,  wearily, 
pwing  to  the  great  heat,  we  were  surprised  to  come 


■5  *  >       * 


pq 


GETTING  THROUGH 97 

to  fortifications  that  had  been  contrived  on  the  road 
with  the  aid  of  trees  that  had  been  recently  felled, 
among  which  were  piled  up  tremendously  heavy  cars 
and  trucks,  all  mixed  up  with  barbed  wire. 

Every  other  sort  of  obstruction  imaginable  was 
blocking  the  roads,  and  we  had  a  hard  time  of  it,  hav- 
ing to  pick  up  our  bicycles  in  our  arms  and  carry  them 
across  fields  and  hedges  and  fences  for  about  two 
miles,  circling  around  until  we  managed  to  get  by 
these  defences  and  to  return  to  the  road  once  more. 
Riding  on  a  short  distance  we  came  to  more  obstacles 
that  had  to  be  negotiated  in  the  same  way.  When  we 
had  surmounted  the  difficulty  again  we  had  to  pass  a 
sentry  who  was  stationed  on  the  main  road.  He  hur- 
ried over  to  us  and  asked  for  our  passes.  We  pulled 
out  the  passports  that  had  been  given  us  at  the  mayor's 
office  in  Gouvieux  and  showed  them  to  him.  This, 
however,  failed  to  satisfy  him  and  he  plied  us  with  all 
sorts  of  questions: 

"How  do  I  know  that  you  are  the  persons  men- 
tioned in  this  pass?"  he  asked. 

We  were  compelled  to  argue  over  the  matter  with 
him  for  some  time,  till  I  suggested  that  the  best  thing 
to  do  would  be  for  him  to  take  us  over  to  his  com- 
manding officer,  which  he  agreed  to  do.  Another  sol- 
dier led  us  into  a  village  near  by,  where  we  found 
the  mayor's  office.  In  the  first  room  we  were  met  by  a 
man  in  charge  who  immediately  questioned  us  in  re- 


98         FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

gard  to  the  business  that  brought  us  there.  I  showed 
him  the  pass,  but  he  shook  his  head. 

"We  can't  possibly  allow  you  to  proceed  on  the 
strength  of  this,"  he  declared.  "And  we  know  that 
there  are  many  of  the  Germans  on  the  road  over  which 
you  say  you  came.  It  seems  very  peculiar  that  they 
should  have  allowed  you  to  pass  through  them  and 
cover  all  this  distance  to  the  French  lines." 

I  explained  to  him  all  the  incidents  that  had  led  up 
to  our  effort  to  get  to  Paris. 

"I  am  intrusted  with  a  very  special  mission,"  I  told 
him.  "I  have  a  most  important  message  that  is  to  be 
delivered  to  the  Prefect  of  Police  in  Paris  and  it  is 
urgent  that  I  should  reach  there  at  the  earliest  pos- 
sible moment.  I  know  that  if  you  ever  realize  the 
importance  of  my  errand  you  will  all  your  life  regret 
having  detained  me  in  this  way." 

He  insisted  on  knowing  exactly  what  it  was  that  I 
must  deliver  so  soon  in  Paris  and  I  explained  that  it 
was  impossible  for  me  to  tell  him,  since  I  did  not 
know  myself  the  purport  of  the  document. 

"I  shall  soon  find  a  way  to  make  you  tell  me,"  he 
replied,  angrily. 

I  assured  him  that  I  would  be  only  too  pleased  to 
obey  all  orders  if  he  would  only  take  me  to  his  supe- 
rior officer,  or  whoever  was  in  charge  of  the  unit  oc- 
cupying the  village.  Again  I  repeated  that  the  matter 
was  a  most  serious  one  and  that  it  must  be  looked  into 


GETTING  THROUGH 99 

at  once  by  one  of  his  superiors.  This  aroused  his 
indignation  and  I  was  also  shaking  with  excitement. 
Finally,  in  the  midst  of  our  excited  talk,  I  bethought 
myself  of  my  jockey's  license  and  showed  it  to  him. 

It  proved  a  happy  thought  indeed.  Immediately 
his  manner  changed  entirely. 

"Oh!  I'm  ever  so  sorry,  Mitchell,"  he  said.  "Of 
course  I  know  who  you  are.  You  want  to  see  the 
Major  in  command,  naturally.  I  shall  be  very  glad 
to  take  you  to  him  at  once." 

He  led  the  way  into  the  Major's  quarters  and  this 
officer  asked  me  in  very  stem  and  gruff  tones  what 
my  business  was  and  what  I  was  going  to  Paris  for. 
I  endeavoured  to  tell  him  that  I  had  been  sent  by  the 
Mairie  of  Gouvieux  and  the  surrounding  villages, 
upon  a  mission  of  the  highest  importance.  When  he 
asked  me  what  it  was  I  was  again  compelled  to  tell 
him  I  did  not  know.  At  this  he  again  looked  at  me 
suspiciously: 

"And  you  expect  me  to  believe  such  a  thing?"  he 
asked  gruffly. 

I  then  saw  that  it  was  necessary  for  me  to  give  him 
more  exact  details.  I  had  been  instructed  at  Gou- 
vieux to  say  nothing  to  any  one  about  what  I  knew  of 
the  impending  arrival  of  a  German  army.  Hence, 
as  patiently  as  I  could,  I  repeated  that  I  had  a  mes- 
sage to  deliver  and  that  I  had  not  the  slightest  idea 
of  what  it  contained.     The  Germans,  I  added,  had 


100      FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

been  unable  to  find  it  when  they  had  stripped  me, 
and  I  intended  to  show  it  to  no  one  until  I  delivered 
it  to  its  proper  destination.  I  begged  him  again 
not  to  detain  my  son  and  me  any  longer  than  he  pos- 
sibly could,  telling  him  that  it  was  too  bad  that 
after  risking  our  lives  among  the  Germans  and  suc- 
cessfully passing  through,  we  should  be  detained  by 
the  French  we  were  trying  to  serve.  We  had  ex- 
pected trouble  from  the  Boches,  I  told  him,  but  had 
certainly  not  anticipated  being  held  up  after  we 
should  have  reached  what  we  had  thought  would  be 
a  haven  of  safety.  I  told  him  that  it  was  a  disgrace 
that  the  French  should  give  me  more  trouble  than  the 
Germans  had.  Finally  I  showed  him  my  jockey's 
license,  hoping  that  it  might  have  some  effect  on  him 
since  it  identified  me  as  a  law-abiding  dweller  in 
a  French  community. 

This  delay  was  maddening,  and  I  was  beginning  to 
shake  all  over  with  the  rage  I  sought  to  control. 
When  my  life  and  my  son's  had  been  for  a  time  hardly 
worth  a  minute's  purchase  I  had  managed  to  keep 
calm,  since  we  were  in  the  hands  of  the  enemy,  but 
now  it  seemed  as  if  our  best  friends  were  betraying 
me. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

PARIS  AT   LAST 

I  PRESUME  that  my  manner  j&nally  convinced  the 
Major  of  my  sincerity  and  of  the  urgency  of  my  mis- 
sion. At  any  rate  his  ideas  began  to  veer  around, 
and  finally  he  handed  me  a  short  note  he  had  writ- 
ten and  which  I  was  to  present  if  I  should  happen  to 
be  stopped  again.  He  told  me  that  it  would  permit 
me  to  proceed  with  no  further  delays. 

He  appeared  to  have  so  well  realized  that  he  had 
been  mistaken  in  suspecting  my  intentions  that  at 
last  he  apologized  for  my  detention  at  his  hands.  He 
was  exceedingly  anxious  to  hear  more  about  the  treat- 
ment I  had  received  from  the  Germans  and  how  we 
had  managed  to  get  through  their  lines.  My  haste 
was  so  great  that,  pleased  as  I  would  have  been  to 
comply  with  his  wishes,  I  was  forced  to  tell  him  that 
I  must  be  on  my  way  at  once.  I  told  him  that  I  was 
grateful  to  him  for  the  pass  he  had  been  kind  enough 
to  give  me,  but  that  we  were  bent  on  saving  time,  and 
he  allowed  us  to  depart. 

Indeed  I  felt  that  the  message  I  carried  must  be  of 
the  utmost  importance  and  was  persuaded  that  it 

101 


102       FRED  MITCHELL'S  WAR  STORY 

would  probaBiy  be  the  means  of  saving  not  only 
lives  but  perhaps  the  city  itself.  The  delays  had 
driven  me  nearly  frantic  and,  in  spite  of  our  weari- 
ness, when  we  were  free  again  we  rode  as  fast  as 
ever  we  could.  When  we  reached  St.  Denis,  on  the 
outskirts  of  the  city,  we  placed  our  machines  in  a 
cafe^  whose  proprietor  promised  to  look  out  for  them 
till  the  next  day.  We  could  find  swifter  means  of 
communication  now,  since  we  could  take  a  tram  that 
would  allow  us  to  get  off  close  to  the  Rue  des  Batig- 
nolles,  where  we  delivered  our  message. 

We  entered  the  building  and  got  into  a  sort  of 
lobby,  in  which  was  a  long  wide  counter,  behind 
which  were  several  gendarmes,  busily  writing  out 
passports  and  other  papers.  Our  appearance  must 
have  been  somewhat  remarkable  since  we  were  cov- 
ered with  the  sweat  and  the  dust  accumulated  on  our 
long  trip. 

"What  do  you  want?"  asked  one  of  them. 

"My  father  has  a  message  for  the  Prefect  of  Po- 
lice," answered  my  son. 

"Wait  a  moment,  I  will  get  it  for  you,"  I  told  the 
man. 

When  I  started  to  take  my  boot  off  I  saw  that  these 
men  had  some  doubts  in  regard  to  my  sanity.  By 
this  time  they  were  neglecting  their  work  and  star- 
ing at  us  with  intense  curiosity.  Finally  I  pulled 
out  the  document  and  handed  it  to  one  of  them. 


PARIS  AT  LAST 103 

"Please  see  that  the  Prefect  gets  this  immediately," 
I  urged  him. 

"Where  do  you  people  come  from?"  he  questioned 
me. 

"From  Gouvieux,"  I  answered. 

At  this  they  all  crowded  around  me. 

"Do  you  mean  from  Gouvieux  near  Chantilly?" 
he  asked,  intensely  surprised. 

"Certainly,"  I  replied. 

"Impossible!"  he  shouted.  "  'Tis  in  the  hands 
of  the  Boches." 

So  great  was  his  amazement  that  he  stood  there, 
with  the  note  in  his  hand,  forgetting  that  he  had 
been  asked  to  deliver  it  at  once.  When  he  finally 
departed  he  backed  out,  staring  at  us  till  he  disap- 
peared behind  a  door. 

The  other  men  began  to  ply  me  with  questions. 
They  were  quite  incredulous  yet.  The  dust  on  my 
face  made  me  quite  unrecognizable,  I  suppose,  and 
our  weariness  was  such  that  I  was  anxious  to  get  away 
as  soon  as  possible.  Finally  I  showed  him  the  pass- 
port I  had  received  from  the  mayor's  office  at  Gou- 
vieux and  my  son  pulled  his  also.  They  examined 
them,  greatly  interested,  and  finally  I  pulled  out  my 
jockey's  license  and  also  showed  it. 

"Nom  de  Dieu!"  bellowed  one  of  them,  "it  is 
Mitchell,  the  jockey!" 

"It  is,"  I  assured  him,  "and  now  we  can't  wait 


104       FRED  MITCHELLS  WAR  STORY 

any  longer.  You  can  see  for  yourselves  that  we  are 
utterly  exhausted.  If  you  need  us  further  you  can 
get  us  at  once." 

"Where  are  you  going?"  he  asked  me. 

"To  my  brother-in-law's,  Mr.  Thomas  Peacock,  just 
a  little  way  around  the  comer,"  I  told  him. 

They  allowed  us  to  go,  but  I  was  at  once  aware 
that  a  lad  was  following  us.  Once  he  passed  us,  look- 
ing mightily  indifferent,  and  slowed  down  again.  He 
certainly  saw  us  enter  the  house  I  had  mentioned. 

Before  leaving  I  had  told  these  men  that  I  would 
call  in  the  morning,  in  case  there  was  any  answer  to 
be  taken  back. 

We  lost  no  time  in  getting  in.  My  brother-in-law 
was  absent,  but  his  wife  and  brother  were  there. 
They  received  us  like  lost  sheep,  absolutely  delighted 
to  see  us.  Scarcely  could  they  get  over  their  surprise, 
for  the  general  impression  was  that  everything  had 
been  blown  up  and  nearly  every  one  killed  in  the  dis- 
tricts we  came  from. 

At  once  they  made  some  tea  ready  for  us,  which 
gave  us  most  needed  refreshment.  We  had  been  af- 
forded a  badly  needed  opportunity  of  washing  up  a 
little.  My  boy  was  so  utterly  exhausted  that  after 
some  tea  and  bread  and  butter,  with  a  little  fish  that 
was  prepared  for  him,  he  asked  to  go  to  bed,  where 
he  was  soon  dead  to  the  world.  I  went  out  to  pur- 
chase the  provision  of  tobacco  and  cigars  and  ciga- 


PARIS  AT  LAST 105 

rettes  I  needed,  the  promise  of  which  had  greatly  fa- 
cilitated our  journey.  A  little  later  we  had  dinner, 
as  my  brother-in-law  returned.  When  this  was  fin- 
ished he  was  most  anxious  to  hear  more  about  my 
journey  but  I  was  nodding  helplessly  in  my  chair. 
Finally  I  staggered  off  to  bed,  where  I  fell  asleep  like 
a  dead  man.  Our  experiences  had  been  too  exciting, 
I  suppose,  for  a  couple  of  hours  later  I  awoke  with  a 
start,  and  kept  on  tossing  about  for  most  of  the  re- 
mainder of  the  night. 

We  rose  but  a  short  time  before  eight  o'clock  in 
the  morning  and,  after  breakfast,  looked  over  some 
of  the  stuff  we  had  to  take  back  with  us.  Then  I 
made  my  way  over  to  the  Gendarmerie.  When  I  en- 
tered the  head  official  was  in  the  reception  room  and 
came  over  to  me. 

"You  are  Mr.  Mitchell?"  he  asked  me. 

I  confirmed  his  statement  and  he  asked  me  to  step 
into  another  room  with  him,  where  he  bade  me  sit 
down.  I  perched  myself  upon  a  high  stool  that  stood 
there. 

"Now  what  can  I  do  for  you?"  he  asked  me. 

*'I  have  come  to  know  whether  there  is  any  answer 
to  the  letter  I  brought  you." 

"Do  you  know  what  was  in  it?"  he  inquired. 

"No,  I  never  looked  at  it,"  I  replied. 

"Have  you  any  idea  of  the  nature  of  the  message?" 
he  asked  again. 


106       FRED  MITCHELL^S  WAR  STORY 

"Of  course,"  I  said. 

"Well,  tell  me  what  it  is,"  he  said,  looking  keenly 
at  me. 

"I'll  never  tell  that  to  any  one,"  I  answered. 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?"  he  demanded, 
sharply. 

"You  have  the  note  and  I  give  you  my  word  I  never 
looked  at  it,"  I  told  him.  "Of  course  I  must  have 
formed  some  opinion  about  the  nature  of  this  errand 
but  I  don't  feel  disposed  to  give  it  to  any  one." 

"Well,  perhaps  you  are  right,"  he  admitted. 
"Now  tell  me  what  I  can  do  for  you." 

"I  want  my  answer  for  the  Mairie  in  Gouvieux,"  I 
told  him,  "and  it  should  be  a  verbal  one  because  I 
don't  care  about  carrying  papers  again.  We  found 
it  rather  risky.  Also  I  wish  you  would  give  me  a 
passport  so  that  I  may  get  through  your  lines  without 
hindrance." 

He  at  once  complied  with  this  request,  giving  passes 
both  to  my  son  Freddie  and  myself. 

"As  to  the  answer,"  he  said,  "tell  them  at  Gouvieux 
that  we  will  do  all  in  our  power  to  execute  the  com- 
mission as  soon  as  possible;  perhaps  within  twenty- 
four  hours." 

Then  he  turned  to  Freddie,  putting  his  hand  on  the 
lad's  shoulder. 

"I  wish  you  a  safe  journey,  my  boy,"  he  said,  in 
a  voice  that  .showed  some  emotion.     "I  hope  with  all 


PARIS  AT  LAST 107 

my  heart  that  I  shall  be  able  to  see  you  again  soon, 
my  brave  little  boy,  as  well  as  your  father." 

He  accompanied  us  to  the  door  and  watched  us 
for  a  moment  as  we  went  down  the  street. 

So  we  took  the  tramway  again  for  St.  Denis.  Go- 
ing over  to  the  cafe  where  we  had  left  the  bicycles  I 
found  that  my  boy  had  some  room  left  in  his  pockets, 
so  I  went  into  a  shop  and  bought  a  further  supply, 
being  anxious  to  bring  back  all  we  could  carry.  In 
the  cafe  we  had  some  lunch,  after  which  we  started, 
at  noon  or  shortly  after. 

Freddie  had  rested  well  during  the  night,  and  had 
pretty  nearly  got  over  his  emotions.  In  the  tram- 
way, however,  I  had  been  surprised  when  he  leaned 
his  head  on  my  shoulder,  looking  at  me  with  eyes  that 
expressed  wonder: 

"Dad  dear,"  he  said.  "How  did  you  ever  man- 
age to  keep  up  so  strongly?  I  never  thought  you 
could  have  held  yourself  in  so  bravely,  and  never  al- 
lowed them  to  suspect  that  anything  was  up.  I  felt  as 
if  I  must  give  way,  more  than  once,  and  if  they  had 
taken  me  away  from  you  I'm  afraid  I  would  have 
become  so  crazy  that  I  would  have  told  them  about 
that  letter  you  carried.  I'm  so  happy  now  that  you 
managed  to  put  them  off  the  track.  I — I  couldn't 
speak  about  it  last  evening.  It  seems  to  me  that  my 
head  was  whirling.  All  night  I  was  dreaming  about 
our  journey,  and  I  wonder  how  we  shall  manage  to 


108       FRED  MITCHELL'S  WAR  STORY 

get  back.  But  I  have  confidence  now  for  I  know  you 
can  beat  them.  I  think  I've  become  twenty  years 
older  since  yesterday.  Of  course  I'm  only  a  boy,  but 
I  feel  that  I  have  learned  ever  so  much — ^more  than 
I  ever  expected  to  learn.  I  shall  be  very  careful  in 
future,  on  our  trips  here  and  back.  Please,  Dad, 
promise  me  that  in  future  you  will  always  take  me 
with  you,  even  for  short  distances  around  home?" 

He  stopped  a  moment,  while  I  touched  his  hand  to 
calm  him,  but  he  went  on: 

"When  you  spoke  to  me  in  that  wood  about  the  Col- 
onel's passport  and  his  signature  I  hadn't  the  slightest 
idea  that  you  were  trying  to  make  them  tell  you  to 
.  put  on  your  clothes  again.  I  was  sure  that  in  a  mo- 
ment we  would  both  be  bayonetted  or  shot,  especially 
when  you  began  to  unlace  that  right  boot.  Oh,  Dad ! 
How  I  trembled!  I  shall  never  forget  it  as  long  as  I 
live." 

The  poor  boy  was  pouring  out  his  heart  to  me, 
and  I  could  see  how  terribly  trying  his  experience  had 
been  to  him. 

The  day  was  again  a  hot  one.  We  looked  after 
our  bicycles  and  saw  that  they  were  in  good  order, 
and  by  noon  we  were  on  our  way.  The  obstacles  on 
the  road  gave  us  ever  so  much  trouble,  as  had  hap- 
pened on  the  previous  way.  It  was  very  fatiguing 
to  be  obliged  to  go  back  and  forth  across  the  fields, 
carrying  our  machines  with  their  heavy  loads.     With 

\ 


PARIS  AT  LAST 109 

this  sort  of  thing  we  had  constantly  to  contend,  till 
at  last  we  came  to  the  French  sentry.  He  came  up  to 
us,  being  joined  by  other  soldiers,  and  asked  where 
we  were  going.  We  willingly  told  him,  but  it  was 
not  our  friend  of  the  day  before,  and  he  had  to  go 
through  all  sorts  of  formalities  and  to  make  inquiries 
whether  or  not  he  should  let  us  pass.  All  this,  of 
course,  meant  vexatious  delay,  and  we  were  glad 
enough  when  some  one  in  authority  decided  that  we 
might  be  permitted  to  continue  our  journey. 

After  this  we  travelled  about  four  miles  further, 
overcoming  more  difficulties  on  the  way  and  having 
again  to  carry  our  machines  till  we  could  come  to 
clear  portions  of  the  road,  and  we  came  across  an- 
other French  sentry.  This  soldier  knew  us,  however, 
for  he  had  seen  us  on  the  day  before  and  he  at  once 
took  us  over  to  the  Major's  quarters.  The  latter 
asked  me  what  sort  of  reception  we  had  received  in 
Paris.  We  were  eager  to  let  him  know  that  we  had 
met  with  the  most  cordial  reception,  and  kept  up  some 
conversation  with  him  for  a  few  minutes.  I  could 
see  that  he  was  very  curious  to  know  all  about  our 
trip  to  Paris,  and  especially  to  hear  how  in  the  world 
we  had  managed  to  get  through  the  German  posts  on 
our  way.  I  had  to  explain  to  him  that  I  hardly  had 
time  to  give  him  all  this  information,  as  we  had  to 
hurry  on,  but  told  him  that  I  would  probably  be  back 
on  the  following  day,  when  I  hoped  to  be  able  to  tell 


110       FRED  MITCHELL'S  WAR  STORY 

him  more  of  our  experiences.  He  seemed  to  appre- 
ciate the  fact  that  we  did  not  want  to  dwell  much  on 
this  subject.  The  good  fellow  realized  that  our  ex- 
perience had  been  a  rather  distressing  one.  He  had 
seen,  on  the  previous  day,  how  badly  upset  and  played 
out  we  were,  and  sympathized  with  us  heartily. 

"That  experience  of  yours  should  certainly  be  re- 
warded by  a  medal,"  he  told  me,  "even  without  count- 
ing your  success  in  getting  your  message  to  Paris." 

"Well,"  I  answered,  "I  certainly  thought  I  was  go- 
ing to  get  the  famous  'wooden  cross'  yesterday  morn- 
ing, and  so  did  my  son." 

"Ah!"  he  answered.  "That's  a  brave  little  fellow. 
I  am  very  sure  you  will  get  a  better  cross  than  that 
one,  and  I  know  that  France  will  never  forget  what 
you  have  accomplished  in  taking  that  letter  to  its  des- 
tination, through  such  terrible  difficulties  and  facing 
such  dangers.  Whatever  may  have  been  its  import- 
ance, I  am  certain  that  if  you  don't  obtain  your  deserts 
during  the  war  France  will  always  be  grateful  for 
what  you  have  done  for  her  and  for  the  poor  people  in 
your  villages." 

"Well,"  I  told  him,  "there  was  no  other  way  of 
looking  after  those  poor  folk.  I  hope  that  what  I 
have  been  able  to  do  will  show  that  I  have  tried  to  do 
my  bit." 

The  Major  shook  my  hand,  in  the  friendliest  way, 
and  wished  us  a  safe  journey  back. 


PARIS  AT  LAST 111 

So  we  continued  our  trip  until  we  reached  Lu- 
zarches,  where  we  stopped  at  a  pump  to  have  a  drink 
of  water  and  rest  for  a  few  minutes.  I  took  this  occa- 
sion to  warn  my  boy  to  be  most  careful  about  every- 
thing he  said. 

"If  they  ask  you  any  questions,"  I  told  him,  "never 
look  at  me  when  you  answer.  Reply  to  them  one  by 
one,  as  they  come,  and  don't  appeal  to  me  by  word 
or  look  for  this  will  certainly  arouse  their  suspic- 
ions." 

After  this  we  resumed  our  journey  and  had  cov- 
ered about  a  couple  of  miles  when  we  came  across  two 
Germans.  They  halted  us  and  asked  us  where  we 
were  going,  and  I  told  them. 

"Yes,"  said  one  of  them.  "You  passed  thiough 
here  yesterday.  I  remember  you.  Did  you  bring 
back  those  cigarettes?" 

"Yes,"  I  answered,  "and  I  will  be  glad  to  let  you 
have  a  package  of  them,  and  some  tobacco." 

"You  should  have  brought  us  more  than  that,"  he 
said,  rather  displeased. 

I  explained  that  we  had  brought  some  more  but  that 
we  had  promised  them  to  his  friends  further  on. 
Otherwise,  I  told  him,  we  would  have  been  able  to 
give  him  a  larger  supply.  I  was  careful  to  tell  him 
that  we  would  be  passing  on  this  road  every  day  or 
two,  if  he  and  the  other  soldiers  would  allow  us  to, 
and  that  we  would  be  only  too  glad  to  render  them  any 


112      FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

little  services  in  our  power.  This  seemed  to  affect 
him  quite  favourably,  and  he  appeared  to  be  quite 
won  over  to  us. 

Well  pleased  with  the  result  of  this  meeting  we 
went  on  until  we  reached  the  Oak  Tree,  which  we  ap- 
proached with  some  misgivings.  Our  terrible  experi- 
ence there  was  too  recent  to  allow  of  our  passing  it 
without  a  shudder.  We  saw  men  gathered  near  it, 
and  went  up  to  them,  feeling  rather  nervous.  We 
were  glad  to  find  that  they  were  the  same  who  had 
stopped  us  on  the  previous  day  and  they  appeared  to 
be  quite  delighted  to  see  us  again,  wanting  to  know 
what  we  had  brought.  I  told  them  they  might  as 
well  search  for  themselves,  expressing  my  readiness 
to  undress  again. 

"No,"  said  one  of  them.  "Tell  us  what  you  have. 
Are  you  carrying  any  letters?" 

I  truthfully  answered  that  we  had  none,  although 
we  had  brought  one  or  two  newspapers,  but  that  we 
had  the  cigarettes  and  tobacco  we  had  promised  to 
bring  back.  I  had  brought  each  of  them  a  package  of 
"Marylands"  and  another  of  "Soldier's  Tobacco." 
They  actually  paid  me  a  mark  each  for  the  supply, 
which  I  accepted  rather  as  a  souvenir  than  as  pay 
for  my  trouble.  After  this  they  asked  me  if  it  would 
be  possible  for  me  to  have  some  letters  mailed  for 
them  in  Paris.  I  intimated  that  this  would  be  quite 
easy  and  that  I  could  see  no  harm  in  doing  it.     I 


PARIS  AT  LAST 113 

knew,  of  course,  that  every  letter  would  be  censored 
in  Paris,  and  that  it  might  perhaps  give  the  Govern- 
ment an  opportunity  of  learning  something,  so  that 
I  thought  my  acting  as  a  mail-carrier  might  be  of 
some  advantage.  It  would  further  ingratiate  me  with 
the  men  and  might  also  be  of  service  to  France,  I 
promised  to  take  them  with  me  if  they  would  have 
them  ready  on  the  next  day. 

When  we  reached  Lamorlaye  several  of  the  inhabi- 
tants came  out  and  asked  us  for  news.  It  must  be 
realized  that  for  weeks  we  had  all  been  in  complete 
ignorance  of  what  was  taking  place.  I  had  to  tell 
them  that  there  was  nothing  encouraging  in  the  news 
but  that  we  would  try  to  gather  more  information  on 
our  next  trip.  We  went  around  to  the  Mairie  and 
suggested  that  if  the  official  might  have  it  announced 
that  we  would  be  ready,  on  the  next  day,  to  convey 
letters  to  Paris.  They  would  have  to  be  directed  in 
care  of  my  brother-in-law,  99  Rue  le  Gendre,  and 
must  all  be  left  unsealed  so  that  they  might  be  ex- 
amined by  either  Germans  or  French.  I  said  that  I 
would  seal  and  mail  them  myself  upon  arrival,  and 
that  the  writers  must  instruct  their  correspondents  to 
send  replies  to  the  same  address.  They  were  loud  in 
their  appreciation  of  what  I  was  ready  to  do  for  them. 

Without  hindrance  we  continued  our  journey  to 
our  own  village  of  Gouvieux,  a  distance  of  some  two 
miles.     The  people  seemed  to  be  nearly  crazed  with 


114       FRED  MITCHELLS  WAR  STORY 

joy  at  our  return,  and  I  shall  never  forget  the  recep- 
tion they  gave  us.  The  poor  things  were  weeping  and 
laughing  at  the  same  time,  as  they  lifted  up  their  arms 
and  cheered  when  they  saw  us  coming.  The  joy  of 
these  people  really  seemed  like  some  sort  of  compen- 
sation for  all  that  we  had  endured.  I  need,  of  course, 
say  nothing  in  regard  to  the  happiness  with  which  my 
wife  and  daughter  received  us.  They  had  been  de- 
voured with  anxiety  and  had  feared  the  worst. 

My  first  visit  was  to  the  Mairie,  where  I  delivered 
the  verbal  message  that  I  had  been  entrusted  with  by 
the  Prefect  of  Police.  When  we  related  our  experi- 
ence the  official  appeared  to  be  too  overcome  to  be  able 
to  speak.  He  could  only  shake  our  hands  and  pat 
us  on  the  shoulders,  so  great  was  his  emotion.  On 
our  side  we  were  too  weary  to  wish  to  enter  into  long 
explanations.  When  we  reached  home  again  the  news 
of  our  return  had  reached  every  nook  and  corner,  and 
every  individual  capable  of  walking  had  come  up  to 
the  house. 

My  wife  and  daughter  were  weeping  with  joy  and 
the  poor  old  men  and  women  were  moved  to  tears  also. 
But  it  was  utterly  impossible  for  us  to  tell  them  at  this 
time  all  that  we  had  been  through,  for  we  were  stag- 
gering with  fatigue.  The  distance  to  St.  Denis,  about 
30  miles,  is  by  no  means  such  as  to  try  an  ordinary 
bicycle  rider's  strength,  but  we  had  been  obliged  to 
carry  our  wheels  for  long  distances  in  the  burning 


PARIS  AT  LAST 115 

sun  and  to  undergo  emotions  that  had  fairly  played 
us  out. 

Before  reaching  our  village  I  had  given  my  boy 
strict  injunction  to  keep  as  quiet  as  possible  and  to 
make  no  mention  whatever  of  the  various  means  by 
which  we  had  managed  to  get  through.  I  greatly 
feared,  of  course,  that  our  German  invaders  should 
decide  to  prevent  us  from  repeating  this  journey. 

After  some  rest  and  refreshment  I  took  a  newspaper 
over  to  each  of  the  Mairies,  and  another  on  the  fol- 
lowing morning  to  Chantilly.  On  my  way  there  I  met 
a  squad  of  some  sixty  Germans,  who  halted  me  and 
put  the  usual  question: 

"Where  are  you  going?" 

I  replied  that  I  was  taking  a  paper  to  the  Mairie,  so 
that  it  might  be  posted  up  there  for  every  one  to  see. 
The  German  officers  seized  it  at  once  and  looked  over 
it  quickly.  They  were  delighted  to  read  that  their 
army  was  making  tremendous  progress  through  Bel- 
gium. It  was  splendid  news  to  them.  They  made 
no  further  inquiries.  The  man  exclaimed  "Bravo!" 
and  told  me  I  might  go  on. 

I  delivered  the  paper  to  the  Mairie  and  explained 
some  of  the  incidents  of  our  journey,  after  which  I 
started  back  home.  On  my  return  I  met  one  or  two 
lads  who  had  been  working  in  the  stables  and  a  few 
elderly  men.  They  asked  my  opinion  about  things 
generally. 


116      FRED  MITCHELL^S  WAR  STORY 

"One  has  to  keep  everything  one  knows  about  it 
to  oneself,"  I  told  them.  "A  lot  of  queer  things  are 
going  on  now  and  the  less  one  talks  about  it  the  bet- 
ter. It  isn't  wise  to  do  any  talking  before  the  enemy 
has  disappeared  from  these  places.  That's  the  best 
and  only  advice  I  can  give  you." 

Indeed,  I  could  see  that  it  was  becoming  more  and 
more  important  to  be  secretive,  for  we  were  all  about 
as  safe  as  the  traditional  boy  sitting  on  the  safety- 
valve  of  the  racing  Mississippi  steamer.  The  Huns 
were  so  confident  that  early  and  absolute  victory  was 
in  their  grasp,  and  had  been  so  little  interfered  with 
in  our  district,  that  our  villages  had  been  among  the 
very  few  that  had  been  spared.  But  I  realized  that 
these  conditions  might  change  at  any  minute. 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE   LOOT  BEGINS 

Upon  reaching  home  I  found  that  my  son  had  re- 
ceived peremptory  orders  to  get  more  biscuits  ready. 
I  exclaimed  that  those  blessed  biscuits  would  be  the 
death  of  me.  Freddie  had  already  begun  to  do  some 
baking  and  a  few  minutes  later  we  were  both  hard  at 
work. 

My  wife  asked  me  if  she  could  not  help  us  but  I  was 
rather  afraid  to  have  her  do  so,  as  Germans  might 
have  come  in  at  any  time  and  seen  her  in  the  bakery. 
No  woman,  saving  perhaps  the  oldest  ones  in  the  vil- 
lage, was  safe  from  insult,  and  the  few  there  were 
kept  themselves  indoors  in  their  houses  or  in  the  old 
cave.  But  she  insisted  and  said  that  if  the  Germans 
came  in  she  would  run  into  the  back  room  and  keep 
out  of  the  way.  She  proved  of  the  greatest  help  to 
us  and,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  could  beat  the  two  of  us 
put  together.  We  got  on  wonderfully  well  and  made 
considerable  progress.  After  we  had  been  working 
for  several  hours  she  persuaded  us  to  take  a  rest  as 
we  were  facing  the  hard  journey  to  Paris  on  the  next 

day. 

117 


118       FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

When  we  returned  home  I  found  that  my  boy  had 
not  been  able  to  keep  entirely  silent.  He  had  re- 
vealed some  of  the  incidents  of  the  trip  to  his  sister, 
who  immediately  repeated  them  to  her  mother,  with 
the  idea  that  we  might  perhaps  be  persuaded  to  give 
up  such  dangerous  work.  My  mind  was  made  up  on 
this  question,  however.  I  deemed  it  of  the  greatest 
importance  to  keep  up  communication  with  Paris  as 
long  as  it  could  be  done.  It  was  also  a  means  of 
entering  into  the  good  graces  of  the  German  soldiers, 
by  keeping  them  supplied  with  the  tobacco  they 
missed  so  greatly.  Finally  the  carrying  of  letters  for 
the  inhabitants  was  bound  to  be  of  the  greatest  service 
to  them.  I  felt  also  that  we  had  opened  the  way  and 
that  our  further  trips  would  prove  less  difficult. 

On  the  following  morning  I  went  over  to  the  Mairie, 
at  about  eight  o'clock.  Orders  were  immediately  is- 
sued that  a  man  should  be  sent  around  to  each  village 
to  announce  that  letters  would  be  taken  to  Paris  by  me 
and  that  they  were  to  be  brought  to  the  Mairies  of  the 
villages  clustered  near  us  so  that  they  might  be  col- 
lected. My  brother-in-law's  address  was  given,  so 
that  replies  might  be  sent  there.  It  must  be  under- 
stood that  there  was  absolutely  no  other  means  of 
communicating  with  their  friends  and   relatives  or 

with  their  men  fighting  at  the  front. 

Finally  it  was  understood  that  all  the  mail  would 

be  ready  and  gathered  at  the  Maine's. 


THE  LOOT  BEGINS 119 

The  time  came  for  us  to  start,  and  we  were  better 
equipped,  this  time.  We  carried  a  few  provisions 
with  us  and  were  loaded  with  a  rather  large  bundle 
of  mail.  At  Lamorlaye  we  stopped  and  collected  a 
few  more  letters  which  had  been  left  for  us  there. 
Words  can  hardly  express  the  gratitude  of  the  poor 
people  we  thus  obliged.  It  was  a  comfort  to  all  these 
sufferers  and  indeed  it  was  with  real  happiness  that  I 
was  undertaking  to  do  this  for  them,  knowing  how 
greatly  they  appreciated  it. 

We  went  past  Lamorlaye,  and  I  cannot  say  that  we 
approached  the  famed  Oak  Tree  in  the  easiest  frame 
of  mind.  My  boy,  I  could  see,  was  pretty  nervous 
about  it.  Our  previous  experience  there  had  eaten 
pretty  deeply  into  his  soul.  When  the  men  sum- 
moned us  again  to  halt  we  dismounted  at  once,  and 
Freddie  whispered  to  me,  anxiously: 

"Oh!     Dad!     It's  coming  again!" 

I  think  I  managed  to  look  perfectly  calm,  however, 
and  we  put  down  our  bicycles  and  exhibited  our  pack- 
ages. The  men  asked  us  what  we  had  in  them  and 
we  opened  everything.  They  carefully  inspected  all 
that  we  had  and  then  ordered  us  to  take  off  our  coats. 
This  we  proceeded  to  do  with  less  anxiety  than  on  the 
previous  occasion.  Search  as  they  might,  we  knew 
that  we  had  nothing  that  could  lead  to  our  instant 
execution. 

These  men  did  not  constitute  the  same  group  that 


120       FRED  MITCHELL'S  WAR  STORY 

had  already  interviewed  us,  and  they  had  to  be  satis- 
fied all  over  again.  I  produced  my  jockey's  license 
and  my  German  "passport,"  but  they  stripped  us  to 
the  skin,  saving  the  fact  that  this  time  they  allowed  us 
to  keep  on  our  trousers  and  our  boots. 

The  letters  we  carried  appeared  to  be  very  objec- 
tionable and,  in  consequence  of  this,  they  kept  us  for 
about  three  quarters  of  an  hour,  examining  them  very 
thoroughly.  They  held  a  consultation,  speaking 
among  themselves  very  excitedly  and  appearing  to 
be  discussing  all  sorts  of  formalities.  Finally  they 
sent  one  of  the  soldiers  with  a  message  to  some  post 
in  the  neighbourhood,  and  of  course  we  were  closely 
guarded  till  he  should  return.  When  he  came  back 
an  officer  was  with  him  and,  fortunately,  he  recognized 
me. 

"Oh!  It's  you,  Mitchell,"  he  said.  "Then  every- 
thing's all  right." 

Never  in  my  life  have  I  heard  words  that  meant 
more  cheer  to  me,  for  we  were  beginning  to  think 
we  were  again  in  a  most  unpleasant  situation  and  the 
trip  began  to  seem  like  a  very  ugly  one  again.  In 
fact  we  had  begun  to  suspect  that  we  were  going  to 
meet  our  doom  this  time.  When  the  messenger  had 
left  we  certainly  thought  he  had  gone  for  orders  to 
proceed  to  our  execution. 

The  officer  went  on: 

*'I  understand  that  you  are  going  on  to  Paris." 


THE  LOOT  BEGINS 121 

"Yes,  I  expect  to  go  every  other  day,"  I  replied. 
"I  have  found  that  I  can  be  useful  to  our  villagers 
in  a  good  many  ways.  Many  of  them  are  nearly 
starving.  We  expect  to  bring  back  some  provisions, 
with  cigarettes  and  tobacco,  and  we  want  to  mail  let- 
ters for  them  if  you  will  allow  us  to  do  so." 

He  thought  over  this  for  a  moment. 

"Well,  I  don't  think  there  will  be  any  harm  in  that 
if  our  men  are  always  given  the  opportunity  to  read 
them  over.  Should  you  conceal  any  of  them  I  sup- 
pose you  know  what  you  can  expect.  When  do  you 
intend  to  come  back?" 

I  told  him  that  we  hoped  to  return  on  the  next  day. 

"All  right,"  he  said,  "and  there  is  one  thing  I 
want  you  to  do  for  me.  You  are  to  bring  me  a  box 
of  a  hundred  Abdullah  cigarettes— Turkish  pre- 
ferred. To  any  one  who  asks  you  you  may  say  that 
they  are  for  Lieutenant  S." 

Instead  of  giving  me  German  money  in  payment  he 
surprised  me  by  handing  to  me  fourteen  francs. 
During  all  this  time  we  had  been  compelled  to  remain 
unclothed.  With  his  permission  we  got  dressed  again 
while  he  remained  at  our  side  until  we  were  ready  to 
start. 

We  went  on,  losing  no  time,  for  we  had  been  de- 
layed a  long  time,  but  we  were  halted  again  a  little 
farther  on,  and  put  through  the  usual  questioning. 

In  my  dealings  with  those  soldiers  I  soon  discov- 


122       FRED  MITCHELL'S  WAR  STORY 

ered  that  the  one  thing  they  were  always  craving  for 
was  tobacco  and  cigarettes.  This  time  we  were  not 
treated  too  roughly,  and  the  interview  ended  with 
their  handing  out  more  money  for  such  supplies. 
They  were  French  francs  again.  Of  course  I  had  ex- 
plained to  them  that  I  had  scarcely  any  money  and 
that  I  would  have  to  pay  for  those  things  in  Paris. 
So  anxious  were  they  that  they  made  not  the  slightest 
objection  to  paying  at  once  for  them. 

Of  course  I  have  not  the  slightest  doubt  that  this 
silver  had  been  looted  from  poor  French  people.  Un- 
der the  circumstances,  however,  I  could  hardly  ex- 
press to  these  soldiers  my  true  feelings.  I  could  only 
pocket  the  money  and  start  off  again,  thankful  that 
another  obstruction  to  our  progress  had  been 
passed. 

After  arriving  at  Luzarches  we  had  a  bite  to  eat, 
after  which  we  started  off  and  met  no  further  hin- 
drance till  we  came  to  the  French  recruits,  drilling 
away  for  dear  life.  We  knew  that  we  were  bound  to 
come  across  a  sentry  on  duty  at  the  next  post.  A 
number  of  soldiers  were  there  and  recognized  us  at 
once.  They  escorted  us  at  once  to  our  friend  the 
Major,  where  all  our  letters  were  inspected  and  re- 
turned to  us,  with  thanks  for  our  efforts  to  relieve  the 
minds  of  our  poor  villagers.  The  Major  shook  hands 
with  me  and  told  me  that  we  might  go  on  at  once,  also 
saying  that  he  had  entire  confidence  in  me  and  that  we 


THE  LOOT  BEGINS     -  123 

would  never  be  troubled  in  the  future,  if  he  possibly 
could  help  it. 

He  also  urged  me,  when  I  had  a  few  minutes  to 
spare,  to  come  and  tell  me  the  full  story  of  my  first 
trip  to  Paris  and  of  what  we  had  undergone  on  the 
journey.  He  added  that  it  was  a  pity  he  could  not 
start  at  once  with  those  boys  who  were  in  training  and 
clear  those  Germans  out.  I  presume  that  he  had  to 
obey  higher  orders,  but  I  could  see  that  the  inaction 
irked  him  badly. 

On  we  went,  and  when  we  came  to  the  next  sentry 
we  had  rather  more  trouble  in  getting  through.  We 
were  detained  all  of  a  half  an  hour,  but  at  last  we  were 
permitted  to  go  through,  after  having  passed  a  regular 
third  degree  of  questions,  all  of  which,  fortunately, 
we  were  able  to  answer  satisfactorily.  At  last  the 
way  lay  open  before  us  and  at  St.  Denis  we  were  glad 
indeed  to  reach  the  cafe  where  we  put  up  our  machines 
again.  Returning  to  the  Police  Station  we  delivered 
some  messages  that  had  been  given  us  verbally,  and 
we  explained  about  the  letters  we  carried.  I  was 
told  to  post  them  wherever  it  might  be  convenient. 
At  my  brother-in-law's  I  obtained  permission  to  have 
replies  sent  there,  in  his  care.  After  this  we  visited 
several  other  places  in  Paris  and  near  by.  We  were 
by  no  means  as  exhausted  as  we  had  been  on  the  first 
trip.  The  way  had  doubtless  been  as  hard,  but  sav- 
ing for  the  long  delay  at  the  Oak  Tree  and  the  scare 


124      FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

undergone  there,  we  had  met  with  a  great  deal  less 
trouble  and  had  not  been  nearly  so  worried  and  fright- 
ened. We  actually  took  the  time  to  indulge  in  a  little 
recreation  at  a  moving  picture  show,  after  which  we 
went  back  to  dine  at  my  brother-in-law's.  These  dear 
people  were  glad  indeed  to  see  us  again  and  were  feel- 
ing somewhat  reassured  by  this  time,  yet  they  were 
kept  on  the  anxious  seat  about  us  and  were  glad 
enough  to  know  we  were  in  safety. 

In  the  morning  we  started  a  little  earlier.  We  had 
twelve  letters,  to  be  distributed  in  Lamorlaye,  Chan- 
tilly  and  Gouvieux.  I  also  procured  several  French 
papers.  I  could  not  get  any  English  ones  as  the  Daily 
Mail,  I  believe,  had  suspended  publication  for  a  short 
time  in  Paris.  The  New  York  Herald  was  being 
printed  as  usual.  I  was  rather  careful  to  look  into 
the  papers  I  was  bringing,  for  it  was  not  at  all  to  our 
interest  that  the  Germans  should  know  that  Great 
Britain  had  declared  war  against  them. 

I  may  say  here  that  a  good  many  of  the  Germans 
took  me  for  an  American.  Over  my  house  was  a 
large  sign,  displaying  the  words,  "Anglo-American 
Kennels,"  and  I  had  constantly  been  employed  as  a 
jockey  for  American  owners  who  had  second  call  for 
my  services.  I  don't  suppose  that  either  an  American 
or  an  Englishman  would  be  for  a  moment  in  doubt  as 
to  my  nationality,  but  these  Boches  were  unfamiliar 
with  the  peculiarities  of  various  accents.     This  idea 


THE  LOOT  BEGINS  125 

of  theirs,  I  think,  prevented  them  later  on  from  abus- 
ing me  as  severely  as  they  might  have  done,  had  they 
deemed  me  a  native  of  the  tight  little  isle. 

We  got  the  tobacco,  of  course,  for  it  was  the  best 
passport  we  had  through  the  German  lines,  but  I  had 
a  great  deal  of  trouble  in  obtaining  Lieutenant  S's 
cigarettes  and  it  cost  me  quite  a  trip.  Finally  I  got 
them  and  started  towards  home  again. 

This  time  everything  went  most  smoothly  through 
the  French  lines — ^by  this  time  they  all  knew  what 
our  errands  were  for  and  what  we  carried — ^but  when 
we  reached  the  first  German  sentries  they  were  exceed- 
ingly abusive  and  harsh.  It  was  quite  evident  to  me 
that  they  had  been  drinking  heavily;  one  or  two  of 
them  could  hardly  stand  up. 

"Where  are  those  cigarettes  you  promised  to  bring 
us,  and  which  we  paid  you  for?"  asked  one  of  them, 
truculently,  and  accompanying  his  question  with 
beastly  profanity  and  insult. 

I  was  angry  all  through,  of  course,  but  of  course  I 
knew  that  beggars  can't  be  choosers.  If  I  had  not 
kept  my  temper  at  this  time,  as  I  was  forced  to  only 
too  often  later  on,  this  story  would  probably  never 
have  been  told.  I  pulled  out  the  cigarettes  and  to- 
bacco, which  calmed  them  down  again  to  some  extent 
so  that  at  last,  thanking  our  stars,  my  boy  and  I  kept 
on  our  way. 

At  the  old  Oak  Tree  we  found  the  customary  six  on 


126      FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

guard,  who  were  rather  more  decent  to  us.  I  gave 
them  their  supplies  and  a  newspaper,  together  with 
the  box  of  cigarettes  I  had  brought  for  the  Lieutenant. 
They  promised  to  deliver  them  to  him  and  asked  at 
what  time  they  might  expect  us  the  next  day.  I  re- 
plied that  they  would  see  us  some  time  between  eleven 
and  twelve,  in  all  likelihood,  and  they  told  me  that 
they  would  have  some  letters  for  me  to  mail  in  Paris. 

After  this  we  delivered  a  few  letters  in  Lamorlaye, 
with  a  couple  of  papers,  and  hurried  on  to  Gouvieux 
where  we  stopped  at  the  Maine's  with  the  rest  of  the 
letters  and  more  papers  that  were  eagerly  pounced 
upon. 

When  we  reached  our  house  my  wife  and  daughter 
were  overjoyed  to  see  us  again.  They  had,  of  course, 
worried  somewhat  less  than  on  the  first  occasion,  but 
the  waiting  was  none  the  less  somewhat  anxious  for 
them.  Some  of  the  villagers  came,  hurrying  towards 
us,  and  congratulated  us.  The  good  old  priest  ob- 
tained one  of  the  papers  I  had  brought,  and  scanned 
it  anxiously.  His  emotion  was  pitiful  when  he  read 
that  the  Germans  had  invaded  the  little  place  where 
he  was  bom  and  had  been  reared.  He  told  us  that 
his  old  parents  still  lived  there,  and  he  was  beside 
himself  with  grief  and  the  fear  that  they  might  have 
come  to  some  harm.  According  to  the  news  he  read, 
and  which  was  afterwards  confirmed,  the  little  village 
had  been  utterly  destroyed  by  fire.     The  poor  old 


THE  LOOT  BEGINS 127 

Cure  tried  for  a  moment  to  control  his  feelings,  but 
the  task  was  beyond  his  strength.  He  burst  into  tears, 
weeping  like  a  stricken  child.  He  was  not  alone  in 
his  grief,  being  so  well  loved  that  others,  sympathiz- 
ing with  him,  had  to  cry  also. 

The  poor  man  left  us,  bowed  down  with  sorrow, 
and  went  off  to  his  church  in  which  he  disappeared. 
We  only  saw  him  again  in  the  evening.  He  was  still 
carrying  that  paper,  nor  would  he  allow  any  one  to 
take  it  from  him,  although  we  had  only  two  and  many 
were  anxious  to  read  them.  The  last  we  saw  of  him 
that  night  he  was  still  holding  on  to  it  as  if  it  must  be 
some  sacred  thing  he  couldn't  part  with. 

I  then  rode  my  wheel  off  towards  some  places  in 
the  neighbourhood,  to  see  how  things  had  been  prog- 
ressing. I  reached  a  chateau  we  knew  as  the  "Old 
Mill,"  a  place  that  had  been  recently  refurnished  and 
beautifully  decorated.  The  doors  had  been  thrown 
open  and  the  sight,  when  I  entered,  was  so  revolting 
as  to  sicken  me.  All  the  furniture  was  absolutely 
shattered — a  beautiful  and  costly  bed  was  broken  to 
bits — and  nearly  everything  that  would  go  through 
the  windows  had  been  thrown  out,  the  wreckage  strew- 
ing the  ground.  The  outrages  that  had  been  commit- 
ted would  be  beyond  belief,  had  such  beastliness  not 
been  repeated  so  far  and  wide  throughout  the  invaded 
country  that  thousands  upon  thousands  have  seen  such 
sights.     Absolutely  nothing  had  been  left  undone  that 


128      FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

could  mar  the  beauty  of  the  splendid  old  place.  And 
everywhere,  in  beds,  on  costly  carpets  half  consumed, 
upon  the  walls,  yes,  and  to  the  very  ceiling,  the  swin- 
ish Hims  had  scattered  and  smeared  and  spattered 
their  personal  filth.  Thus  had  they  proclaimed  the 
glory  and  "Kultur''  of  their  sacrosanct  Empire. 
Thus  had  they  gloried  in  demonstrating  their  civiliza- 
tion and  showing  their  contempts  for  the  peoples  of 
this  world  that  are  incapable  of  following  such  a  lead 
in  the  upward  march  of  humanity. 

The  sight  had  made  me  ill,  and  I  returned,  nau- 
seated, to  break  the  news  to  the  villagers.  One  poor 
old  man  told  me  that  he  had  passed  that  way  on  the 
previous  evening.  He  had  heard  a  tremendous  noise 
within  the  gates  of  the  chateau,  while  inside  the  yard 
there  had  been  some  twenty  or  thirty  German  soldiers. 
They  had  impressed  him  as  being  all  more  or  less 
drunk,  and  he  had  hurried  back  to  the  church  and  told 
this  to  the  people  who  had  taken  refuge  in  the  old 
cave,  imploring  them  to  keep  very  still  as  there  were 
a  lot  of  Boches  on  the  road  to  Chaumont  who  would 
certainly  make  trouble  if  they  came  this  way.  I  has- 
tened to  my  house  and  told  this  to  my  people.  When 
my  wife  heard  about  the  smashing  up  of  all  the  beau- 
tiful things  she  broke  down  and  cried  like  a  child. 
This  destruction  was  nothing  short  of  a  crime,  a  most 
useless  and  dastardly  one,  for  no  one  had  hindered 
them  in  any  way  and  everything  in  the  place  was  of 


■>■>■)     i 


>»    •       •»"••>     ' 


PERMIS    DE    SfiJOUR 

DANS    LA    ZONE    DES    ARWI&E8 
E:SRBJISXRE  SOUS  LE  N"  ......Jj../.-i 


t         1 


-    V 


L  Valable  jusqn  au    _ 
f^%  Pour  redder  a  . ^^.^^-C^^^^ ;  ^^  ^ ^k.^^f--^M^7}  -  ^  ; 
Depariement t ^..    '         

Au  Quartisr  General,  le  ../A  t    ^?/.t^:i4..  ...^  i^ 
^S  '    i^  Genial  Commndani 


1 


/        -1 


X^ 


'4;^<rH-'rk.fu.i 


>" 


DfiCLARATION  a        ^/^^ 
OE  RESIDENCE  faite  :  /  ._^ 

EXTRAIT  DU  REGISTRE  \  k  //      /  ^<^ <^.:iytJhA..-. ^^^-' 

d'lmmatrkulatioQ  vini :  ] 


ADRESSE  / 

,;daas  la  lociilit^i'Etranger  \ 
est  uulixJ3»a  i^c^pt--      ) 


line  .  .  ^ 


9.  A^U-. 


N"..J.. 


VISA  du  CoatMissAiHK  UK  Police 
■cu  du  MA'p.t) 


J 


FRED   MITCHELL'S   PERMIT   TO   REMAIN   IN    THE 
WAR  ZONE 


THE  LOOT  BEGINS 129 

nearly  priceless  value,  since  very  few  of  the  objects 
collected  there  could  ever  be  restored  or  duplicated. 
Such  were  the  first  real  evidences  of  Hunnish  re- 
finement that  I  saw.  These  sights  were  soon  to  be- 
come only  too  familiar  to  me,  unfortunately. 


CHAPTER  X 

NECKS  AGAIN  IN   JEOPARDY 

After  supper  I  went  again  to  the  bakery,  where  I 
worked  hard  for  about  three  hours,  only  stopping 
when  I  was  utterly  unable  to  stand  to  my  work.  I 
had  but  little  rest  that  night,  rising  at  five  in  the 
morning.  Going  to  the  kennels  I  busied  myself,  to 
the  best  of  my  ability,  with  some  veterinary  work 
needed  by  some  dogs  that  had  been  quarantined.  It 
soon  became  time  for  me  to  leave  this  off  and  go 
around  for  the  letters  I  was  to  take  to  Paris.  Every 
day,  as  more  and  more  people  kept  hearing  about  my 
trips,  the  mail-pouch  grew  more  voluminous. 

We  were  off  again  at  half  past  eleven,  cheered  by 
the  brightly  shining  sun  and  hoping  that  it  was  an 
omen  of  good  luck.  In  this  I  must  say  that  we  were 
disappointed,  for  it  proved  to  be  the  worst  of  the  jour- 
neys we  had  yet  undertaken. 

On  the  way  to  Lamorlaye  I  was  halted  by  soldiers 
unacquainted  with  me,  who  inspected  my  bags  and  the 
letters.  These  were  thrown  contemptuously  all  over 
the  road,  after  which  they  ordered  us  away.  This 
squad  of  men  acted  towards  us  in  such  an  ugly  way 

130 


NECKS  AGAIN  IN  JEOPARDY         131 

that  we  were  glad  indeed  to  escape  from  them  with 
our  lives.  We  rode  on  for  a  short  distance  but  I  kept 
looking  back.  The  men  disappeared  in  the  woods 
and  I  decided  to  attempt  to  get  those  letters.  Return- 
ing, I  picked  them  up  as  fast  as  I  could.  They  were 
not  in  very  bad  condition,  as  the  weather  was  dry. 
They  were  only  rather  soiled  but  otherwise  none  the 
worse.     I  don't  think  I  missed  a  single  one. 

This  occurrence  had  not  served  to  quiet  our  nerves 
very  much,  and  poor  Freddie  was  rather  badly  shaken, 
as  I  was  also,  to  tell  the  truth.  We  had  noticed  that 
the  manner  of  these  men  was  most  unfriendly  and 
brutal  and  we  feared  that  further  trouble  might  be 
brewing.  Nor  were  we  disappointed  in  our  expecta- 
tion. That  old  Oak  Tree  always  seemed  to  be  a  sort 
of  Waterloo  for  us.  We  were  absolutely  sure  to  be 
stopped  there  and  we  wondered  what  was  waiting  for 
us  this  time. 

About  fifty  of  the  Boches  were  on  guard  this  time, 
with  their  rifles  stacked  up  all  around  them.  Their 
order  to  halt  was  shouted  out  fiercely,  and  they  com- 
manded us  to  go  out  into  the  woods,  leaving  our 
wheels  on  the  ground.  They  marched  us  off  for 
about  two  hundred  yards — two  men  with  fixed  bay- 
onets keeping  all  too  close  behind  us.  These  men 
were  so  terribly  truculent  and  rough  that  this  time 
there  was  no  doubt  in  our  minds  that  this  was  the 
finish. 


132       FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

We  were  compelled  to  undress  again,  to  the  very- 
last  stitch  this  time — boots  and  stockings  and  every- 
thing. But  of  course  they  were  unable  to  find  any- 
thing. This  simply  seemed  to  aggravate  their  furi- 
ous tempers  till  they  were  in  a  towering  rage.  The 
least  thing  might  have  made  them  use  the  weapons 
they  were  brandishing  in  our  faces. 

But  here  our  lucky  star  shone  again.  A  soldier 
who  had  come  over  a  different  road  came  near  to  see 
what  was  the  matter.  The  fellow  had  seen  us  on 
other  occasions  and  had  received  some  cigarettes  from 
us.  At  once  he  explained  to  the  sergeant  in  charge 
of  the  squad  that  we  were  the  men  who  had  brought 
tobacco  and  other  things  to  them  from  Paris.  I  had 
unfortunately,  on  this  occasion,  forgotten  my  "Ger- 
man Passport"  and  had  been  unable  to  identify  my- 
self to  their  satisfaction.  But  the  luck  held  out. 
The  man  explained  what  I  had  done  not  only  for  the 
men  but  for  the  Colonel  himself.  As  soon  as  they 
heard  this  they  told  us  to  put  on  our  clothes  again  and 
go  on  our  way.  Thankfully  we  obeyed  and  at  last 
made  another  start.  We  had  not  gone  more  than  a 
couple  of  hundred  yards  or  so  when  bullets  whizzed 
by  us  and  we  heard  five  or  six  shots  ringing  out. 
Whether  they  meant  to  kill  us  or  merely  to  frighten 
us  I  am  sure  I  don't  know,  but  they  certainly  accom- 
plished the  latter.  A  few  hundred  yards  away  we 
were  stopped  again,  but  these  soldiers  only  wanted  to 


NECKS  AGAIN  IN  JEOPARDY         133 

give  us  money  to  bring  them  back  more  cigarettes.  It 
appears  that  one  of  the  men  at  the  post  we  had  just 
left  had  been  observing  us  through  his  glasses.  When 
he  saw  that  we  had  stopped  and  were  receiving  the 
money  he  leaped  on  his  horse  and  came  thundering 
after  us.  He  asked  the  soldiers  what  they  were  doing 
and  they  explained  the  transaction.  He  was  molli- 
fied at  once. 

"Oh!  I  didn't  know  that  you  would  do  that,"  he 
said,  "or  I  should  have  asked  you  to  bring  me  some." 

Of  course  I  had  to  say  that  I  would  be  glad  to 
oblige  him,  at  which  he  looked  rather  surprised. 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  will  do  this  in  spite 
of  the  way  we  have  treated  you?"  he  asked. 

As  diplomatically  as  I  could  I  answered  that  I  sup- 
posed he  had  only  been  doing  his  duty  in  seeing  that 
we  were  not  engaged  in  anything  that  would  be  harm- 
ful to  the  troops. 

"I'm  glad  you  take  it  that  way!"  he  stated. 

To  this  I  innocently  answered  that  I  could  not  see 
that  there  was  any  other  way  to  take  it,  and  he  asked 
us  to  bring  him  five  francs'  worth  of  cigars  and  five 
packages  of  cigarettes.  Before  leaving  us  he  asked 
us  the  usual  question  and  we  replied  that  we  would 
be  back  on  the  following  afternoon  about  four-thirty 
or  five  o'clock. 

"I  shall  be  on  guard  with  five  men  and  await  your 
return,"  he  told  me.     "But  if  anything  should  pre- 


134      FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

vent  my  doing  so  you  can  put  the  cigars  and  cigarettes, 
and  some  matches,  in  the  hollow  of  this  tree.  Place 
three  stones  at  the  foot  of  the  tree  and  then  I  will 
know  that  you  have  left  them  for  me." 

So  we  left  him,  able  to  breathe  fairly  freely  again. 
When  we  reached  Luzarches  I  asked  my  son  if  he 
wished  to  stop  at  the  fountain  for  a  drink  of  water. 
He  answered  that  he  was  very  thirsty  and  would  like 
to  do  so.  This  was  the  first  time  that  I  had  become 
really  alarmed  about  the  boy's  condition.  He  was 
beginning  to  show  very  plainly  how  trying  these  or- 
deals had  been  for  him,  and  was  shaking  all  over, 
showing  that  his  nerves  were  getting  badly  frayed. 
I  had  a  small  bottle  in  my  saddle-bag,  which  contained 
a  little  port  wine.  I  gave  him  a  swallow  of  this  and 
it  seemed  to  revive  him  and  brace  him  up  to  some 
extent.     But  he  was  still  greatly  excited: 

"Oh,  Dad!"  he  cried,  "this  is  getting  worse  all  the 
time!" 

"We  mustn't  grumble,  my  boy,"  I  told  him.  "We 
haven't  been  hurt  yet." 

He  was  very  uneasy  yet,  however, 

"What  would  have  become  of  us  if  that  officer 
hadn't  arrived  just  in  the  nick  of  time?"  he  asked. 

To  this  I  could  only  answer  that  by  this  time  we 
would  be  bound  to  meet  some  soldier  who  knew  us, 
whenever  we  were  stopped.  I  told  him  to  remember 
that  thus  far  we  had  got  through  safely  each  time  and 


NECKS  AGAIN  IN  JEOPARDY         135 

that  we  had  been  very  fortunate,  seeing  that  I  had  for- 
gotten the  Colonel's  "passport." 

I  had  not  missed  the  thing  until  we  had  been  halted 
at  the  place  where  all  our  letters  were  scattered  on  the 
ground,  and  of  course  it  had  been  too  late  to  return 
for  it,  for  we  would  have  been  compelled  to  get  by 
the  very  same  men  again. 

"The  thing  that  worries  me  most,"  said  my  boy 
after  a  moment,  "is  to  think  that  those  brutes  may 
have  taken  the  road  to  our  house.  I  wonder  what 
would  happen  if  they  took  it  into  their  heads  to  search 
it  and  make  trouble  for  mother  and  Florence?" 

I  tried  to  reassure  him,  but  these  words  awakened 
in  me  a  keen  anxiety  and  I  never  ceased  to  worry 
over  the  matter  during  our  trip  to  Paris  and  back. 

On  this  occasion  we  hardly  had  any  trouble  at  all 
in  passing  the  French  lines.  We  were  allowed  to  go 
through  without  the  slightest  difficulty  or  delay,  so 
that  we  reached  our  destination  an  hour  or  so  before 
we  had  expected  to.  After  my  boy  had  eaten  a  good 
meal  he  looked  ever  so  much  better.  If  he  felt  re- 
vived, however,  I  was  feeling  worse  every  moment,  as 
I  kept  constantly  thinking  of  those  men  who  had 
stopped  us.  They  had  been  badly  under  the  influ- 
ence of  liquor  and  I  continued  to  worry  over  what 
road  they  might  have  taken  after  they  had  left  us. 

I  had  a  lot  to  do  in  Paris,  of  course,  and  this  kept 
me  busy  till  dinner  time.     I  decided  to  start  two 


136      FRED  MITCHELL'S  WAR  STORY 

hours  earlier  on  the  next  day,  since  I  had  not  been 
able  to  stop  worrying.  We  did  this  and  I  was  very 
glad  of  it,  for,  after  passing  the  French  lines,  we  were 
able  to  keep  on  at  a  good  pace  till  we  reached  Lu- 
zarches.  There  we  stopped  to  rest  for  about  twenty 
minutes,  eating  our  sandwiches  and  drinking  from  the 
fountain. 

Resuming  our  journey  we  took  the  road  down  to 
Lamorlaye,  but  a  short  distance  away.  We  remarked 
that  it  was  strange  that  there  seemed  to  be  no  Ger- 
mans about  the  place,  but  suddenly  we  were  halted 
by  a  revolver  pointed  at  us,  close  to  that  ill-omened 
old  Oak  Tree.  We  were  asked  why  we  had  stopped 
at  the  fountain  and  what  we  had  been  doing  there. 
I  explained  how  we  had  rested  and  had  some  lunch, 
but  they  ordered  me  to  ride  back  there  and  bring  two 
pails  of  water  from  the  fountain.  One  of  the  soldiers 
jumped  on  my  son's  bicycle  and  accompanied  me. 
He  keenly  watched  me  as  I  filled  the  pails.  Then 
we  returned  and  I  was  made  to  pour  some  of  the 
water  into  a  glass  and  drink  it.  When  I  had  done 
this  I  had  to  sample  the  other  pail,  to  show  them  that 
the  water  was  all  right.  As  they  had  seen  us  sitting 
by  the  fountain  they  had  suspected  us  of  tampering 
with  it.  As  it  was  their  best  source  of  water-supply 
they  had  judged  it  best  to  experiment  on  me  in  order 
to  see  whether  we  had  put  poison  in  it. 

After  this  I  asked  them  whether  the  man  to  whom 


NECKS  AGAIN  IN  JEOPARDY          137 

I  had  promised  to  bring  the  cigars  was  around.  They 
asked  me  to  describe  him  and  appeared  to  understand 
at  once  who  I  was  referring  to,  saying  that  he  would 
be  back  in  about  twenty  minutes.  They  were  rather 
uneasy  at  having  troubled  us  about  the  water,  while 
we  were  trying  to  do  a  favor  to  one  of  their  comrades. 

"Why  didn't  you  tell  us  that  you  were  bringing 
those  cigarettes?"  they  asked.  "Then  we  wouldn't 
have  sent  you  back  for  that  water." 

My  readers  will  understand  that  we  were  contin- 
ually coming  across  new  men.  I  presume  that  they 
were  constantly  being  shifted  from  one  post  to  another 
and  this  made  it  harder  for  us  since  it  compelled  us 
to  explain  matters  over  and  over  again. 

The  man  we  were  waiting  for  finally  turned  up 
and  looked  angrily  at  me. 

"Why  didn't  you  do  as  I  told  you  to?"  he  asked 
me,  sharply. 

"I  couldn't,"  I  answered.  "These  are  not  the  same 
men  who  were  here  yesterday.  They've  made  me  go 
over  to  the  fountain  to  get  them  water  because  they 
thought  I'd  poisoned  it.  If  they  had  seen  me  rum- 
maging around  a  tree  they  would  have  suspected  some- 
thing else.  At  any  rate  there  would  have  been  a 
chance  that  you  might  not  get  your  cigarettes  and 
cigars.  Then  you  would  have  been  pretty  cross  the 
next  day." 

This  seemed  to  amuse  him  and  he  said  that  it  was 


138       FRED  MITCHELL^S  WAR  STORY 

all  right.  The  soldiers  were  greatly  surprised  when 
they  saw  me  hand  over  the  tobacco  and  matches  to  this 
man. 

"I  think  that's  great,"  said  one  of  them  to  the 
others.  "We  ought  to  be  grateful  to  these  fellows 
instead  of  treating  them  as  we  have  done.  They're 
the  two  whose  letters  we  scattered  on  the  road  yester- 
day.    I  never  recognized  them  at  first." 

It  was  a  great  sigh  of  relief  I  gave  when  I  heard 
this,  for  now  I  could  feel  sure  that  they  had  not  made 
the  trip  to  Gouvieux  as  we  had  feared  they  would.  I 
was  glad  indeed  to  find  them  in  this  place. 

We  were  allowed  to  proceed  and  were  soon  able  to 
leave  letters  and  papers  at  Lamorlaye.  I  was  still  so 
upset,  however,  that  I  forgot  to  leave  any  newspapers 
for  the  Germans.  We  had  pretty  nearly  reached 
Gouvieux  when  we  met  six  lancers  going  at  full  gallop 
along  the  road.  They  paid  no  attention  to  us  and 
would  have  been  upon  us  had  we  not  hurriedly  pulled 
out  into  the  field.  Many  of  these,  in  France,  have  no 
hedges  or  fences,  and  the  fruit  trees  grow  sometimes 
right  up  to  the  side  of  the  road.  Those  six  lancers 
kept  on  at  breakneck  speed  and  dashed  past  us,  never 
even  glancing  our  way.  After  we  had  reached  Gou- 
vieux we  were  informed  that  there  had  been  a  consid- 
erable disturbance  on  the  previous  night.  The  men 
who  were  causing  the  trouble  had  been  pounced  upon 
by  fifty  men  who  had  dashed  up  on  bicycles.     The 


NECKS  AGAIN  IN  JEOPARDY         139 

disturbers  had  been  drinking,  of  course,  but  had  for- 
tunately done  but  little  damage,  excepting  in  one  or 
two  unoccupied  houses. 

Our  family  and  friends  were  glad  to  see  us,  as 
usual,  and  we  received  the  warmest  welcome.  They 
were  delighted  to  have  the  newspapers  and  the  latest 
information  from  Paris.  We  had  only  just  managed 
to  get  through  pur  supper  and  were  longing  for  a  little 
rest  when  peremptory  orders  came  for  more  biscuits. 
The  Boches  were  improving  in  the  matter  of  appetite, 
it  seems,  for  this  time  they  wanted  six  hundred  of 
them  ready  for  the  following  evening.  I  wondered 
whether  I  would  be  expected  to  feed  the  fifty  thousand 
who  were  on  their  way  towards  us,  according  to  the 
Colonel's  information. 

"That's  an  awful  job,"  I  complained.  "I  scarcely 
feel  equal  to  it,  for  I'm  pretty  nearly  exhausted.  It's 
too  bad." 

But  biscuits  were  biscuits  and  by  this  time  I  was 
quite  convinced  that  Germans  were  Germans.  There 
was  no  remedy  for  this  new  trouble  excepting  to  grin 
and  bear  it  to  the  best  of  my  ability.  First,  however, 
I  felt  absolutely  compelled  to  rest  for  a  couple  of 
hours  and  have  something  to  eat.  This  accomplished 
wonders  for  me,  and  my  boy,  who  managed  to  get  four 
hours'  sleep,  joined  his  mother  and  myself  in  this 
dreadful  task  of  providing  fodder  for  the  Germans. 
By  four  o'clock  in  the  morning  we  had  five  hundred 


140       FRED  MITCHELL'S  WAR  STORY 

and  fifty  of  those  biscuits  ready,  so  that  I  told  my  wife 
and  son  to  leave  and  take  their  needed  rest  while  I 
finished  the  job.  By  half  past  five  I  staggered  off  to 
bed  and  slept  like  a  log  till  ten,  when  it  was  time  to 
begin  our  preparations  for  another  trip  to  Paris. 

My  wife  was  exceedingly  nervous  and  excited  that 
morning — she  begged  and  begged  me  to  give  up  or 
postpone  my  trip,  and  I  had  the  hardest  sort  of  time 
to  overcome  her  objections.  I  have  no  doubt  that 
she  was  affected  by  the  dangers  Freddie  and  I  had 
been  passing  through,  so  that  her  nerves  had  come  on 
edge.  Our  exhaustion,  and  the  worried  looks  I  sup- 
pose we  sometimes  bore,  made  her  feel  that  she  could 
not  bear  to  have  us  leave.  I  certainly  sympathized 
with  her,  but  I  was  certain  that  it  was  most  important 
for  us  to  go,  so  that  I  finally  prevailed  on  her  to  allow 
us  to  start. 

We  went  around  to  collect  our  usual  mail,  after 
which  our  journey  began.  We  managed  to  reach 
Lamorlaye  before  we  were  halted  at  some  stables 
there.  The  Colonel  came  out  and  asked  me  how  I 
was  faring  now.  I  told  him  that  I  had  been  all  the 
way  to  Paris  and  back,  several  times,  and  explained 
to  him  how  we  had  managed  to  get  through,  dwelling 
to  some  extent  upon  the  treatment  we  had  received  in 
several  places  and  more  particularly  at  the  Oak  Tree. 
He  looked  rather  angry  at  this,  and  said  that  he  would 
accompany  us  on  his  horse  as  far  as  the  tree.     He 


NECKS  AGAIN  IN  JEOPARDY         141 

would  find  out  why  we  had  been  so  molested  in  spite 
of  the  card  he  had  given  us  and  give  the  men  a  talk- 
ing to. 

I  begged  him  to  say  as  little  as  possible  about  this. 
We  had  hitherto  managed  to  scrape  through  safely 
and  felt  that  it  might  be  bad  for  us  to  incur  the  ill 
will  of  the  soldiers  by  having  them  reprimanded.  It 
might,  I  explained,  cause  us  a  lot  of  trouble  in  future. 
He  listened  to  me,  nodding,  and  seemed  to  think  that 
these  points  were  well  taken.  Riding  at  our  side  he 
covered  the  rest  of  the  way  to  the  tree,  where  he 
merely  told  the  men  that  I  was  not  to  be  interfered 
with  in  any  way.  They  might  examine  anything  I 
carried,  he  told  them,  but  must  return  it  to  us.  Also 
he  ordered  them  never  to  strip  us  again,  saying  that  it 
was  quite  unnecesary,  and  directed  them  never  to  de- 
lay us  a  moment  longer  than  was  absolutely  neces- 
sary. He  made  it  a  point  to  tell  them  that  if  they 
wished  any  letters  mailed  or  wished  anything  to  be 
brought  back  to  them  he  felt  very  sure  that  we  would 
do  our  best  to  accommodate  them. 

For  the  first  time  we  thus  got  by  the  Oak  Tree 
without  the  sensation  that  we  were  getting  pretty  close 
to  breathing  our  last.  We  started  away  confidently, 
feeling  that  everything  was  going  splendidly  for  us 
now,  and  that  in  future  we  would  doubtless  be  free 
to  come  and  go  as  often  as  we  wanted  to  and  with  very 
little  hindrance. 


142       FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

Freddy  and  I  rode  along,  feeling  very  safe  and 
contented.  The  Colonel  had  branched  off  to  the  left, 
through  the  woods,  after  bidding  us  good-bye.  Sud- 
denly, after  going  but  four  or  five  hundred  yards, 
we  were  peremptorily  halted  again  and  had  to  jump 
off  in  haste. 


CHAPTER  XI 

A   COUNTRY  AFLAME 

A  NUMBER  of  German  soldiers  were  blocking  the 
road.  Harshly  they  ordered  us  to  get  on  one  side  of 
it.  As  we  were  obeying  this  order  we  saw  a  half  a 
dozen  men  kneeling  on  the  grass  that  grew  up  to  the 
highway.  With  left  elbows  resting  on  the  left  knee 
they  were  taking  aim.  I  swiftly  peered  ahead.  By 
the  fountain  at  Luzarches  was  a  French  soldier  dis- 
mounted from  a  horse.  They  were  both  drinking, 
unsuspectingly.  Suddenly  the  shots  rang  out.  I  saw 
the  horse  rear  a  little  and  fall  head  first  across  the 
tank  and  then  roll  over.  The  man's  hands  appeared 
to  be  uplifted  just  a  little  and  he  sank,  falling  back- 
wards. For  an  instant  the  horse's  feet  shook  con- 
vulsively. Then  both  were  utterly  still  in  death,  while 
the  Germans  cheered  and  danced  about  in  delight. 

"You  can  go  now,"  one  of  them  told  us,  "but  don't 
you  dare  turn  your  heads  when  you  get  by  the  foun- 
tain. Ride  straight  on  unless  you  want  to  be  shot 
also." 

We  were  badly  shaken  by  this  sight,  especially  my 
boy  Freddie.     It  was  the  first  sudden  death  he  had 

143 


144      FRED  MITCHELL'S  WAR  STORY 

seen,  and  he  was  trembling  as  we  mounted  again  and 
rode  along,  passing  by  the  fountain  but  never  looking 
at  what  lay  beside  it. 

After  this  we  met  with  no  hindrance  whatever, 
saving  the  obstructions  on  the  roads  after  getting  into 
the  French  lines.  We  reached  Paris  in  good  season, 
attended  to  our  errands,  and  after  spending  the  night 
at  my  brother-in-law's,  as  usual,  we  started  back  the 
next  day. 

Our  loads  were  heavy  ones  on  this  trip,  for  the 
amount  of  mail  had  been  increasing  and  we  carried  a 
large  amount  of  tobacco  in  various  forms,  besides 
packages  containing  tea,  cocoa,  and  other  provisions 
that  were  utterly  lacking  in  our  villages.  We  started 
at  about  eleven  and  in  good  time  reached  Luzarches, 
where  we  were  sickened  when  we  still  saw  the  horse 
and  the  poor  soldier  lying  on  the  ground.  A  few 
minutes  before  reaching  the  fountain  one  or  two  in- 
habitants had  called  to  us,  saying  that  we  must  on 
no  account  touch  them  or  even  look  at  them,  for  many 
Germans  were  about. 

With  heavy  hearts  we  rode  past  this  spot  without 
stopping  for  our  usual  drink  of  cool  water,  and  ex- 
pected to  come  across  some  of  the  soldiers  at  any 
moment.  Close  to  the  Oak  Tree  we  dismounted, 
feeling  sure  that  we  would  be  called  on  to  do  so.  To 
our  surprise,  however,  no  one  seemed  to  be  about, 
and  we  walked  beside  our  wheels  for  some  time, 


A  COUNTRY  AFLAME 145 

thinking  that  the  men  must  be  in  the  woods  close  by 
and  might  think  that  we  wanted  to  ride  past  without 
obtaining  their  consent.  The  place  seemed  to  be 
deserted,  however,  and  after  walking  on  for  a  few 
hundred  yards  we  mounted  our  bicycles  again  and 
went  along  slowly  till  we  reached  Lamorlaye.  We 
delivered  the  letters  and  papers  we  had  for  this  vil- 
lage. My  wife  had  asked  me  to  bring  a  New  York 
Herald  with  me  as  she  wanted  to  read  it,  and  I  had  a 
couple  of  copies. 

In  Gouvieux  we  went  through  the  usual  delivering 
of  letters  and  messages,  after  which  we  went  home. 
As  always  our  friends  were  anxiously  awaiting  our 
return  and  clamoured  for  the  latest  news.  I  gave  a 
copy  of  the  New  York  Herald  to  my  wife  and  she  was 
delighted  to  obtain  it,  since  it  always  had  much  fuller 
news  about  England  than  were  published  in  the  French 
papers.  In  this  issue  there  was  a  good  deal  about  the 
way  in  which  Belgium  was  bravely  holding  out,  and 
statements  to  the  effect  that  the  French  were  fighting 
like  demons. 

On  the  following  morning  the  Colonel  came  to  my 
house  and  asked  me  if  I  had  heard  anything  about  how 
matters  were  going  in  Belgium.  When  I  told  him  that 
I  could  let  him  have  a  paper  he  said  that  he  could  not 
understand  why  I  didn't  get  some  English  ones.  My 
son  Freddie  was  standing  near  at  this  moment.  With 
boyish  imprudence  he  spoke  right  out: 


146       FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

"Why,  Dad,  we  have  that  New  York  Herald  that  we 
brought  along  yesterday." 

I  was  rather  provoked  at  his  volunteering  this  in- 
formation, but  I  did  my  best  not  to  show  it. 

"Perhaps  the  Colonel  would  like  to  see  it,"  said 
the  boy  again,  running  into  the  house  and  coming  out 
with  the  paper.  The  Colonel  at  once  threw  the  bridle 
of  his  horse  to  one  of  the  men  and  leaned  against  the 
wall,  scanning  the  pages  hurriedly. 

I  shall  never  forget  the  expression  that  his  face 
assumed  when  he  suddenly  came  across  the  news  that 
General  French's  "contemptible  little  army"  had 
landed  in  Belgium.  His  hand,  holding  the  paper, 
fell  to  his  side,  and  he  slowly  turned  to  me. 

"Mitchell,"  he  said  in  a  low  voice,  "the  German 
nation  is  doomed.  England  has  turned  against 
us." 

The  paper  dropped  from  his  hand,  unheeded.  At 
this  moment  a  little  boy  two  or  three  years  of  age, 
who  had  been  playing  in  the  street  and  whom  I  was 
great  friends  with,  came  running  up  to  me.  He 
looked  up  at  the  Colonel,  with  childish  assurance,  and 
the  latter  picked  him  up  in  his  arms.  The  little  one's 
mother  had  been  watching  us.  When  she  saw  her 
baby  taken  up  she  fell  to  the  ground  in  a  dead  faint, 
thinking  that  the  baby  would  be  killed.  But  the 
Colonel  kissed  it  and  put  him  down  again,  gently,  and 
turned  to  me: 


^ A  COUNTRY  AFLAME 147 

"I  have  four  of  them  at  home — like  this,"  he  said, 
indicating  with  his  hand  their  various  sizes.  "I  think 
that  I  shall  never  see  them  again,  now  that  Great 
Britain  has  joined  France." 

Then  a  look  of  obstinate  determination  came  over 
him  and  his  voice  grew  harsher.  It  may  be  that  he 
was  ashamed  of  having  shown  that  there  was  a  senti- 
mental side  to  his  nature.  At  any  rate  he  turned 
again  to  me,  brusquely,  and  asked  if  I  had  any  bis- 
cuits. 

I  explained  that  we  had  not  made  any  during  the 
night  as  we  had  been  too  exhausted  on  our  return,  and 
told  him  that  as  we  were  not  going  to  Paris  on  the 
next  day  we  would  be  able  to  bake  a  lot  more. 

"I  have  your  cigars,"  I  added.  "Would  you  like 
to  take  them  now?" 

He  said  that  he  would  take  them  at  once  and  paid 
me  for  them  in  German  money.  After  this  he  asked 
if  he  might  take  the  Herald  with  him,  and  of  course  I 
told  him  he  was  welcome  to  it.  He  said  that  he  would 
try  to  look  me  up  on  the  following  day,  and  that  he 
would  send  some  of  his  men  over  for  the  biscuits.  He 
urged  me  to  have  as  many  ready  as  I  could  bake. 
Then  he  leaned  back  against  the  wall  again,  wearily: 

"Look  here,  Mitchell,  you  had  better  keep  quiet 
about  the  English,"  he  told  me.  "Something  might 
happen  to  me — I  may  be  called  away  from  this  dis- 
trict at  a  moment's  notice.     I've  been  telling  the  men 


148      FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

that  you  were  an  American  jockey.  They  don't  know 
the  difference.  Don't  show  those  papers  to  any  one 
and  be  sure  to  keep  that  card  I  gave  you." 

I  told  him  that  I  appreciated  his  kindness  and  he 
informed  me  that  he  would  see  me  soon  again.  Be- 
fore leaving  he  asked  me  if  I  could  get  him  a  bottle 
of  beer — English  beer  preferred.  As  I  had  a  few  left 
I  told  him  that  I  would,  and  that  I  could  let  him  have 
a  little  cheese  if  he  cared  to  have  some  with  the  beer. 
This  was  gratefully  accepted.  A  poor  old  man  who 
kept  the  barber  shop  in  Gouvieux  came  over  with  a 
bottle  of  red  wine  and  handed  it  to  the  four  men  who 
were  with  the  Colonel.  They  thanked  him  profusely. 
After  he  had  finished  his  beer  our  friend  wished  us 
good  day  and  rode  off. 

I  may  state  here  that  the  old  barber  I  have  spoken 
of  was  so  terribly  agitated  when  he  heard  about  the 
fifty  thousand  Germans  who  were  coming  our  way  that 
the  shock  proved  too  great  for  him  and  he  dropped 
dead. 

I  did  not  go  to  Paris  the  next  day,  having  decided 
that  we  needed  a  rest  badly.  The  Colonel,  with  about 
sixty  men,  passed  through  the  village  and  told  me  that 
he  would  send  eight  of  them  later  on  for  as  many  bis- 
cuits as  I  had  been  able  to  make  ready.  He  hinted 
that  it  probably  was  the  last  time  that  we  should  be 
called  on  to  furnish  them. 

I  didn't  quite  know  what  this  portended,  and  I 


A  COUNTRY  AFLAMJE 149 

wondered  at  what  changes  might  be  about  to  take 
place.  I  had  noticed  a  strange  new  officer  with  the 
Colonel — a  man  far  more  abrupt  and  cold.  I  was 
very  greatly  perplexed,  because  the  Colonel  spoke  to 
me  more  harshly  than  he  ever  had  before,  but  finally 
concluded  that  he  had  done  so  owing  to  the  presence 
of  this  other  man. 

On  that  afternoon  I  rode  over  to  Chantilly,  where  I 
was  informed  that  there  had  been  a  second  visit  from 
the  Crown  Prince.  In  fact,  he  had  been  there  on  that 
very  morning.  His  visits  had  produced  profound 
disquiet  among  the  people,  who  were  greatly  worried 
by  them. 

In  the  Grande  Rue  I  found  that  the  tobacco  shop 
had  been  smashed  up.  Everything  had  been  torn  out 
of  it  and  the  doors  and  windows  broken  or  unhinged. 
As  I  turned  to  go  down  towards  the  Mairie  I  saw  a 
large  group  of  German  soldiers.  They  were  impor- 
tant looking  fellows — dressed  up  in  tremendously 
elaborate  uniforms.  But  I  took  good  care  not  to 
venture  near  them.  I  feel  quite  certain,  though  I 
cannot  be  absolutely  sure,  that  this  was  the  Crown 
Prince  and  his  staff  making  ready  to  leave.  They 
were  apparently  bound  in  the  direction  of  Senlis. 
When  they  had  finally  moved  away  I  went  over  to 
the  Mairie  and  delivered  a  note  there,  after  which  I 
returned  home.  I  was  kept  busy  with  the  dogs  in  my 
kennels  for  some  time.     The  poor  things  were  badly 


150       FRED  MITCHELLS  WAR  STORY 

in  need  of  attention  since  we  were  forced  to  neglect 
them  a  little.  When  this  was  done  I  went  back  to  the 
bakery  to  work  over  the  biscuits,  a  job  to  which  there 
never  seemed  to  be  an  end. 

On  the  following  day  we  started  again  for  Paris. 
To  our  amazement  we  never  met  a  single  German.  At 
Luzarches  we  thought  it  might  still  be  unsafe  to  stop 
to  examine  the  soldier  and  horse  who  were  still  lying 
on  the  ground.  They  had  been  there  for  five  days 
now.  We  reported  the  matter  to  the  first  oflScials  we 
came  to  on  our  road  to  Paris. 

We  reached  St.  Denis  quite  early,  since  we  had  met 
no  hindrance  whatever  saving  the  blocked  roads.  We 
had  something  to  eat  in  the  cafe  and  made  the  rest  of 
the  journey  by  tramway.  As  we  got  into  Paris  we 
were  impressed  by  a  feeling  that  something  was  about 
to  happen.  The  people  looked  restless  and  excited. 
Rumours  were  current  everywhere  that  a  tremendous 
German  attack  was  imminent.  The  officials  ques- 
tioned me  closely  as  to  their  whereabouts  and  I  gladly 
gave  them  all  the  information  I  possessed.  I  also 
told  them  that  by  this  time  the  Germans  were  doubt- 
less on  the  march  towards  Senlis. 

Next  morning  we  left  very  early.  On  arriving  at 
Luzarches  we  were  greatly  relieved  to  find  that  the 
dead  man  and  horse  had  been  removed.  We  dis- 
mounted and  got  a  drink  of  water  at  the  fountain  and 
then  rode  on  quite  fast  until  we  reached  the  Oak  Tree. 


A  COUNTRY  AFLAME 151 

We  got  off  our  machines — ^perhaps  through  sheer 
force  of  habit  more  than  for  any  other  reason,  and 
looked  around  us,  peering  through  the  woods.  They 
were  quite  deserted,  however.  At  the  foot  of  a  tree  I 
came  across  a  German  bayonet  that  had  been  left 
there,  and  tied  it  to  my  machine  in  order  to  take  it 
home  as  a  souvenir.  Just  before  we  reached  Lamor- 
laye  we  noticed  a  great  many  people  coming  towards 
us,  from  the  direction  of  Chantilly  and  Gouvieux. 
We  knew  that  this  signified  trouble  somewhere. 
When  we  reached  them  they  sought  to  persuade  us  to 
turn  back,  crying  out  that  Senlis,  Creil  and  very 
likely  Chantilly  were  in  flames.  But  this  did  not  stop 
us  and  we  hurried  on,  leaving  our  messages  at  Lamor- 
laye.  There  had  been  but  a  very  few  inhabitants  left 
in  this  place,  but  even  the  small  remnant  there  was 
seemed  to  be  preparing  to  flee. 

On  the  way  to  Gouvieux  we  again  met  a  good  many 
people,  all  of  whom  looked  badly  frightened  and 
warned  us  against  going  on. 

At  last  we  reached  home  and  my  wife  cried  out 
to  me: 

"Oh,  Fred!  come  quickly  in  the  back  paddock!" 

As  I  did  so  I  could  see  great  flames  rising  in  a  cloud 
of  yellowish,  sulphurous-looking  smoke  that  soon 
reached  our  village,  emitting  an  oily  stench.  Esti- 
mating the  distance  of  this  conflagration  at  about  three 
miles  or  so  in  a  straight  line,  I  thought  that  it  was  in 


152       FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

Senlis.  Nor  was  I  mistaken.  To  the  left  of  this  was 
Creil,  and  this  town  was  also  a  mass  of  flames.  My 
wife  was  in  a  frenzy  of  fear. 

"Our  turn  will  come  next!"  she  cried  to  me  in  de- 
spair. 

"No,  no,  don't  worry,"  I  urged  her.  "I'm  sure 
we'll  be  all  right.  Make  every  preparation  to  remain 
in  the  cave  tonight.  There  you  will  be  perfectly  safe. 
There  can  be  no  danger  there." 

There  was  a  tremendous  rumbling  of  heavy  guns 
going  on,  but  the  enemy  was  not  being  attacked  and 
I  never  found  out  just  what  it  meant.  For  aught  I 
know  they  may  have  been  at  some  sort  of  practice. 

That  evening  we  made  every  preparation  to  be  out 
of  sight  in  case  any  soldiers  came  our  way.  Through- 
out the  long  night  the  smoke  hung  heavily  over  the 
surrounding  country,  in  a  huge  cloud  slowly  borne 
by  the  wind  and  travelling  down  the  valley  from  Sen- 
lis and  Creil.  I  never  closed  an  eye  that  night. 
Sleep  was  out  of  the  question. 

Over  a  score  of  our  poor  villagers  had  joined  us 
there.  Tottering  old  women  wept,  prayed,  told  their 
beads  endlessly.  Old  men  were  the  picture  of  de- 
spair. All  thought  that  the  end  was  coming.  During 
the  livelong  night  there  was  a  low  chorus  of  suffering 
moans,  of  expressions  of  despair.  Little  children 
cried  and  fell  asleep  again,  but  I  doubt  if  any  of  the 
older  people  managed  even  to  doze. 


A  COUNTRY  AFLAME 153 

I  could  not  remain  in  there  constantly,  and  a  num- 
ber of  times  I  came  out.  The  night  did  not  seem 
very  dark.  I  believe  that  the  moon  was  shining.  A 
tremendous  glare  lightened  the  sky  in  the  direction  of 
the  ill-fated  towns.  The  smoke  still  hung  over  every- 
thing, like  a  fog. 

And  so  that  terrible  night  wore  on. 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE  COLONEL  IS  CAPTURED — THE  BATTLE 

At  about  two  o'clock  I  had  gone  out  of  the  cave 
again,  feeling  so  restless  that  I  could  not  remain  long 
in  one  position.  For  a  short  time  I  listened  to  an 
immense  roaring  sound  that  had  arisen  to  the  north- 
ward. A  mighty  struggle  was  beginning,  undoubt- 
edly, and  I  hurried  back  into  the  cave  to  inform  the 
weary  people  of  this.     Most  of  them  came  out. 

The  buildings  nearest  to  us  seemed  to  be  shaking 
with  the  tremendous  commotion,  even  at  this  distance. 
Mortar  was  falling  off  from  the  ancient  walls  and 
windows  were  broken  by  this  bombardment,  which 
rose  and  fell  in  great  waves  of  sound.  The  force  of  it 
was  terrific  and  even  the  ground  on  which  we  stood 
appeared  to  tremble  under  our  feet  and  to  make  our 
bodies  vibrate  with  it.  Far  down  the  valley  we  could 
see  great  blasts  of  fire  that  were  spat  out  by  the  can- 
nons far  down  the  valley. 

This,  we  found  out  later,  was  the  beginning  of  the 
great  battle  of  Chamont,  which  lasted  several  days. 
It  was  a  terrific  one,  attended  with  immense  slaughter 

154 


THE  COLONEL  IS  CAPTURED    155 

and  the  repulse  of  an  enemy  that  had  deemed  himself 
master  of  the  great  city  by  the  Seine.  It  was  at  this 
time  that  a  swiftly  moving  and  endless  procession  of 
automobiles,  trucks,  auto-busses  and  everything  else 
that  could  carry  men  swiftly,  had  poured  out  of  Paris 
under  orders  of  Gallieni.  Too  much  has  already 
been  written  about  this  great  and  decisive  move  to 
make  it  necessary  for  me  to  speak  about  it  further. 
The  force  so  rapidly  transported  cut  oflf  those  fifty 
thousand  Germans  whose  invasion  we  had  been  threat- 
ened with,  and  who  had  been  swiftly  marching  to- 
wards Paris.  How  many  dead  strewed  the  fields  and 
woods  after  it  I  cannot  say.     They  were  everywhere. 

For  several  days  the  battle  continued.  At  times 
the  firing  seemed  to  fade  away,  as  if  the  guns  had 
been  pushed  farther  from  us,  and  again  the  din  of  it 
all  would  grow  stronger  until  it  seemed  to  arise  within 
a  very  short  distance  of  us.  At  last,  however,  the 
sounds  began  to  grow  dimmer  till  they  seemed  to  come 
from  a  good  many  miles  away.  The  enemy  had  been 
driven  back. 

I  had  seen  no  one  from  the  Mairie  for  a  couple  of 
days,  although  I  had  gone  over  there  several  times. 
When  I  happened  to  go  there  the  officials  must  have 
been  engaged  elsewhere.  A  very  pandemonium  was 
going  on;  every  one  was  excited  and  most  of  us  were 
frightened  half  to  death. 

On  about  the  fourth  day  of  the  battle  we  began  to 


156      FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

see  aeroplanes  darting  over  our  villages,  and  there 
was  done  some  wonderful  work  by  the  French  and 
German  fliers.  They  were  seldom  near  enough  to 
allow  of  our  distinguishing  their  nationality.  All 
that  we  could  see  was  that  they  were  engaged  in  hot 
fights.  We  could  look  from  the  window  of  my  room 
and  see  them  plainly,  sometimes  three  or  four  kilo- 
metres away.  It  was  fearful  and  yet  fascinating  to 
watch  them,  as  first  one  and  then  another  would  be 
stopped  in  its  flight,  swaying  or  seeming  to  turn  som- 
ersaults, and  then  crashing  down.  Right  above  us 
one  of  these  battles  took  place,  which  our  eyes  fol- 
lowed for  a  long  time.  At  last  we  were  able  to  see 
clearly  that  two  machines  were  German  while  one  was 
French.  The  two  first  came  directly  over  our  little 
town,  with  the  third  following  them  closely.  I  esti- 
mated the  distance  at  no  more  than  two  or  three  hun- 
dred yards.  The  Frenchman  was  pursuing  them. 
As  this  went  on  several  shells  fell  in  the  back  part  of 
my  paddocks  and  burst  there  so  that  I  felt  terribly 
alarmed  about  the  dogs.  The  Germans  continued  to 
flee  as  their  foe  kept  on  chasing  them,  in  spite  of  the 
heavy  odds.  Those  French  chaps  are  plucky  fellows 
indeed. 

A  few  days  later  we  resumed  our  journeys  to  Paris, 
for  we  were  constantly  in  need  of  supplies  for  our- 
selves and  the  poor  people  I  was  trying  to  look  out 
for.     On  the  road  terrified  men  would  run  toward  us 


THE  COLONEL  IS  CAPTURED    157 

and  ask  us  where  the  fighting  was.  The  roar  of  it 
could  be  heard  as  far  back  as  the  outskirts  of  Paris — 
about  twenty -three  or  twenty-four  miles  away.  They 
appeared  to  be  rather  astonished  that  I  was  not  more 
upset  and  frightened  about  it,  but  by  this  time  I  had 
really  become  accustomed  to  the  terrific  din  of  it  all 
and  knew  that  the  fighting  was  gradually  taking  place 
further  away. 

When  I  told  all  this  to  my  brother-in-law,  and  ex- 
plained how  close  to  us  the  battle  had  raged,  he  did 
his  best  to  prevail  upon  me  to  bring  my  family  at  once 
to  Paris.  When  I  returned  home  on  the  next  morn- 
ing I  was  surprised  to  find  that  a  great  many  German 
soldiers  who  had  been  stationed  in  the  neighbouring 
districts  and  villages  were  returning  through  Gou- 
vieux.  They  did  not  molest  me,  however,  appearing 
to  feel  none  too  secure  themselves,  and  I  went  at  once 
to  the  Mairie  and  delivered  my  letters  and  various 
commissions  I  had  undertaken  for  them.  I  was 
eagerly  asked  for  the  latest  news  from  Paris,  and  told 
him  that  everything  and  every  one  was  in  a  turmoil 
there.  On  the  way  home  I  came  across  the  Colonel 
and  he  hurried  to  me  also  for  news.  When  I  told 
him  how  excited  and  worried  every  one  was  in  the 
city  he  looked  at  me,  shaking  his  head, 

"So  are  we,"  he  acknowledged  to  me.  "It  looks 
now  as  if  we  must  be  cut  off  and  I  am  beginning  to 
think  that  we  shall  never  get  back  to  our  lines.     Those 


158      FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

of  my  men  who  are  oflF  towards  the  front  may  do  so, 
but  I'm  afraid  a  lot  of  us  can  never  get  back  to  our 
army." 

The  man  looked  very  discouraged,  although  I  could 
see  that  he  had  no  sense  of  personal  fear.  I  will  say 
that  he  was  a  brave  man  and  merely  affected  by  the 
knowledge  that  things  were  going  very  badly  for  him 
and  the  rest  of  the  German  hosts. 

I  had  been  walking  with  him  towards  the  Mairie, 
having  turned  back  after  I  met  him.  He  was  asked 
to  enter  the  place  and  complied  with  the  request, 
leaving  his  man  outside.  A  terrible  surprise  awaited 
him.  No  sooner  was  he  in  the  room  than  he  was 
surrounded  and  ordered  to  give  up  his  arms.  Re- 
sistance was  useless  and  he  was  told  that  he  was  a 
prisoner.     His  man  was  also  brought  in  and  secured. 

In  order  to  try  and  console  him  I  told  him  that  now 
he  would  at  any  rate  see  his  wife  and  children  at  some 
future  date. 

"I  know  that  this  is  your  doing,"  he  replied  to  me. 

I  replied  that  it  was  not,  and  that  I  hoped  it  was  all 
for  the  best.  Before  he  left,  in  charge  of  some  "Pom- 
piers," as  the  firemen  are  called,  I  thanked  him  for 
the  kindness  he  had  shown  to  me  and  to  my  family, 
as  well  as  to  the  poor  people  of  this  and  neighbour- 
ing villages,  but  he  merely  replied  that  all  was  fair 
in  war. 

I  have  never  seen  him  since.     In  spite  of  his  being 


THE  COLONEL  IS  CAPTURED    159 

a  German  I  have  none  but  pleasant  feelings  towards 
him.  Alone  among  his  regiment  of  brutish  and  un- 
couth men  he  had  acted  as  a  man  and  a  gentleman. 
It  is  possible  that  his  long  residence  in  France  and 
England  had  given  him  a  better  polish  than  is  usually 
possessed  by  his  kind.  I  was  able  to  do  a  great  deal 
for  him  while  he  commanded  in  our  place,  though 
whatever  I  did  was  practically  forced  upon  me,  but 
he  recognized  it  civilly  and  treated  the  people  hu- 
manely on  the  whole.  I  know  that  he  must  often  have 
been  hard  put  to  it  to  restrain  the  beastly  brutality  of 
his  rough  and  drunken  horde. 

I  returned  home,  slowly,  and  told  my  wife  what  had 
happened.  She  was  delighted  to  hear  that  the  Colo- 
nel had  been  made  a  prisoner,  saying  that  she  was 
glad  he  was  now  safe  from  harm  since  he  had  been  so 
good  to  the  poor  people  in  all  our  little  villages. 

For  a  number  of  days  some  of  the  men  who  had 
been  with  the  Colonel  kept  turning  up,  half  starved 
and  badly  frightened.  They  had  thrown  their  guns 
and  other  weapons  in  the  river  and  were  only  too 
anxious  to  give  themselves  up.  It  may  well  be  real- 
ized that  their  demeanour  had  undergone  a  consider- 
able change.  They  had  a  hunted,  shame-faced  look, 
and  their  harsh  and  brutal  voices  were  considerably 
lowered  when  they  spoke  at  this  time. 

Some  of  these  soldiers,  however,  were  still  left  in 
the  woods.     They  pilfered  and  stole,  and  molested 


160      FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

some  of  the  villagers,  entering  the  dwellings  furthest 
from  the  villages  and  helping  themselves  with  abun- 
dance of  threats. 

The  Pompiers,  or  fire-brigade,  who,  in  France,  are 
practically  organized  as  a  part  of  the  military  estab- 
lishment, came  over  from  Paris  in  automobiles  to 
clear  these  stragglers  out.  Six  of  these  firemen  came 
through  Gouvieux  and  overtook  me  as  I  was  riding 
my  bicycle,  bound  for  Chantilly.  They  stopped  to 
ask  me  if  I  had  seen  any  Germans  and  I  told  them  I 
had  met  none  of  them  that  morning.  They  warned 
me  to  keep  a  good  distance  behind  their  car,  as  they 
expected  that  at  any  time  there  might  be  some  firing  of 
rifles.  Unless  I  was  on  my  guard,  they  told  me,  I 
might  be  hurt.  Of  course  I  followed  out  their  in- 
structions to  the  letter.  After  they  entered  Chantilly 
the  firemen  turned,  at  the  cross-roads,  into  the  Avenue 
de  la  Gare.  I  stopped  for  some  minutes  at  the  inter- 
section, wondering  whether  anything  was  going  to 
happen,  and  then  went  off  towards  the  Mairie,  along 
the  Grande  Rue.  But  as  I  turned  into  the  latter  I 
saw  four  Uhlans  trotting  abreast  towards  me.  Their 
horses  seemed  badly  spent.  Two  of  the  men  had 
lost  their  caps  during  their  flight.  Taking  all  in  all 
they  looked  as  if  they  had  been  getting  considerably 
the  worst  of  whatever  skirmish  they  had  been  into. 
I  jumped  off"  my  machine  and  stood  watching  them, 


THE  AUTHOR'S  SON 


THE  COLONEL  IS  CAPTURED         161 

thinking  that  trouble  might  come  soon.  One  of  them, 
as  he  passed  me,  snarled  harshly  at  me: 
"What  the  devil  are  you  looking  at?" 
At  this  I  turned  to  go  on.  These  men  would 
surely  have  done  me  some  harm  had  they  not  been 
hurrying  in  flight.  After  they  had  gone  a  short  dis- 
tance I  turned  again,  impelled  by  my  curiosity,  and 
walked  a  little  way  in  the  direction  they  had  taken. 
As  I  was  doing  this  they  turned  into  the  Avenue  de  la 
Care.  I  could  hear  the  clattering  of  the  horses  over 
the  paving-stones.  When  they  reached  the  cross- 
roads the  shooting  began.  The  firemen  opened  fire 
on  them.  They  apparently  missed  the  Uhlans,  al- 
though they  brought  down  two  of  the  horses,  whose 
riders  picked  themselves  up  and  fled.  The  other  two 
leaped  off  their  mounts  also  and  scattered  off.  One 
of  them  ran  into  a  small  cafe  whose  owners  had  fled, 
leaving  a  young  son  of  theirs  who  had  insisted  on  re- 
maining to  look  after  the  place.  The  poor  lad  was  a 
hunchback.  When  the  Uhlan  tore  into  the  place  the 
boy  was  so  frightfully  scared  that  he  dropped  dead. 

Another  one  of  the  fleeing  men  went  into  the 
grounds  of  the  Hotel  Conde,  while  the  other  two  fled 
into  the  woods.  The  firemen  hunted  for  them  a  long 
time,  seeking  out  every  place  they  might  have  crept 
into  and  searching  the  woods  for  them.  The  house  in 
which  the  boy  had  died  was  looked  over,  time  and 


162      FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

again,  but  the  Uhlan  must  have  dashed  out  through 
the  back  door.  No  trace  was  ever  found  of  these 
men;  once  in  the  deep  woods  they  were  comparatively 
safe,  since  these  extended  for  miles  and  miles  around. 
Tracking  them  in  the  thick  forest  was  out  of  the  ques- 
tion. 

I  returned  home  as  soon  as  I  could,  leaving  the  fire- 
men still  searching  and  by  no  means  pleased  at  the 
result  of  their  ambush.  On  the  following  day  Fred- 
die asked  me  if  we  couldn't  go  as  far  as  Chamont. 
By  this  time,  although  we  could  still  hear  heavy  firing, 
the  battle  lines  had  been  pushed  back  a  dozen  or  fif- 
teen miles,  and  the  undertaking  appeared  to  be  a 
fairly  safe  one.  I  consented  to  go  with  him  and  have 
a  look  at  that  part  of  the  country.  After  breakfast 
we  went  as  far  as  Creil,  riding  by  the  side  of  the 
river  Oise  on  the  tow-path.  As  soon  as  we  reached 
the  river  we  had  been  compelled  to  cross  it  on  a  small 
boat  in  order  to  reach  the  path  on  the  other  side.  The 
old  man  who  owned  the  craft  came  out  of  his  house. 
Freddie  was  looking  at  the  river.  Suddenly  he  threw 
up  his  hands  in  horror. 

"Look  at  them.  Dad,"  he  cried.  "Look  at  all  the 
bodies!" 

I  could  see  them,  all  the  way  up  and  down  the 
river,  floating  along  slowly  with  the  current.  There 
seemed  to  be  hundreds  and  hundreds  of  them. 

"Yes,"  said  the  old  man  when  I  spoke  of  this  ter- 


THE  COLONEL  IS  CAPTURED         163 

rible  sight,  "they've  been  coming  for  a  very  long 
time,  and  so  many  of  them." 

As  we  rowed  across,  the  old  fellow  had  to  turn  in 
his  seat,  from  time  to  time,  to  see  that  he  did  not 
collide  with  one  of  them.  I  asked  him  if  they  were 
all  Germans,  and  he  answered  that  he  had  seen  no 
others.  But  his  advanced  age  and  failing  sight  may 
possibly  have  deceived  him.  To  us  it  seemed  as  if 
they  wore  the  German  field-gray,  but  the  water  and 
weeds  and  mud  had  played  havoc  with  them,  and  we 
had  no  stomach  for  careful  investigation.  For  six 
kilometres  we  rode  beside  the  river,  and  hardly  ever 
were  we  out  of  sight  of  these  floating  and  rolling 
bodies.  As  we  reached  Creil,  having  been  concealed 
by  the  steep  embankment,  we  suddenly  found  our- 
selves fifty  or  sixty  yards  away  from  some  Germans 
who  were  standing  close  to  the  bridge  watching  others 
who  were  working  on  it,  trying  to  restore  some  sort  of 
crossing. 

Immediately  I  whispered  to  Freddie  to  jump  off 
and  get  into  a  cafe  that  was  very  near,  telling  him  not 
to  look  at  the  Germans.  We  entered  the  place  and 
the  owner  asked  us  what  we  desired.  I  told  him  that 
we  would  have  some  Chantilly  water,  which  he  gave 
us.  I  watched  the  Germans  through  the  window,  fear- 
ing they  might  molest  us.  We  had  taken  the  wheels 
in  the  house  and  pushed  them  out  of  a  door  at  the 
back,  which  offered  us  a  chance  of  getting  away  with- 


164      FRED  MITCHELL'S  WAR  STORY 

out  being  seen.  As  we  drank,  the  owner  went  and 
stood  in  the  doorway. 

"Look  at  the  dirty  pigs  over  there,"  he  told  us. 

The  Germans  never  could  have  heard  him,  of 
course.  I  had  noticed  that  they  had  been  keeping 
their  eyes  on  him.  Suddenly  one  of  them  lifted  up 
his  rifle  and,  with  quick  aim,  shot  him  dead.  They 
had  seen  us  go  in,  of  course,  and  probably  could  make 
us  out  through  the  windows.  At  any  rate  another 
shot  rang  out,  the  bullet  crashing  through  the  glass. 

"Drop  down!"  I  cried  to  Freddie,  and  we  both  did 
so  as  quick  as  a  flash.  Other  bullets  had  swiftly  fol- 
lowed the  first  ones.  Whether  or  not  they  thought 
we  had  dropped  down  dead  I  don't  know,  nor  can  I 
say  whether  they  came  over  to  see.  Creeping  on 
hands  and  knees  we  had  quickly  gone  out  of  the  back 
door  and  mounted  our  wheels,  pedalling  away  for 
dear  life.  We  thought  ourselves  lucky  indeed  to  have 
escaped. 

Such  wanton  killing  was  not  a  solitary  example  of 
the  German  mode  of  treating  the  inhabitants.  These 
murders  took  place  constantly,  for  any  reason  or  for 
no  reason  at  all  but  the  lust  for  shedding  blood. 

We  journeyed  on  towards  Senlis,  which  took  us  a 
long  way  around,  but  we  were  compelled  to  take  this 
course  in  order  to  try  to  avoid  meeting  any  more 
Huns.  We  deemed  ourselves  fortunate  indeed  at  hav- 
ing escaped,  for  the  shave  had  been  a  narrow  one. 


THE  COLONEL  IS  CAPTURED    165 

Freddie  had  been  terribly  scared,  but  probably  not 
more  so  than  L  He  appeared  to  be  becoming  used 
to  such  happenings,  however,  for  presently  he  laughed 
and  remarked  that  we  had  been  very  clever  to  miss 
those  shots. 

"It  was  a  near  thing,"  he  concluded.  "We've  been 
in  a  little  bit  of  war,  haven't  we.  Dad?" 

The  boy  seemed  to  be  pleased  at  the  idea  that  he 
would  have  a  lot  to  tell  to  his  cousin,  Bob  Peacock. 

Finally  we  reached  Senlis,  and  the  awful  devasta- 
tion was  such  that  we  could  scarce  believe  our  eyes. 
Part  of  the  town  had  been  bombarded.  Later  on  the 
Germans  had  come  into  the  place  and,  with  their  in- 
cendiary torches,  had  fired  every  house  in  the  town. 
Most  of  the  inhabitants  had  fled  before  their  coming. 
Of  the  old  and  feeble  that  had  remained  few  indeed 
were  spared.  Many  of  them  were  burnt  to  death  in 
their  houses  or  suffocated  in  the  cellars  where  they 
had  taken  refuge.  A  few  were  still  alive,  however, 
and  some  had  returned.  In  the  streets  were  still  some 
bodies,  lying  crushed  beneath  fallen  walls.  There 
were  a  good  many  corpses  of  Germans  there,  as  well 
as  those  of  French  civilians. 

We  had  to  clamber  over  obstructions  of  all  sorts  on 
our  way  through  the  streets.  A  few  poor  old  people 
were  grubbing  among  the  ruins,  weeping.  The  road- 
ways were  piled  not  only  with  fallen  brick  and  stone 
and  mortar,  but  there  was  a  large  amount  of  broken 


166       FRED  MITCHELLS  WAR  STORY 

glass,  bits  of  shattered  furniture  and  other  things  too 
numerous  to  mention.  No  cataclysm  of  nature  could 
have  wrought  more  complete  devastation,  and  none 
but  Germans  would  have  been  capable  of  it.  As  we 
went  on  we  came  across  an  old  English  friend  of  mine, 
who  had  once  been  a  jockey.  He  was  glad  to  see  us 
and  related  some  hair-raising  tales  in  regard  to  the 
siege  he  had  been  through.     He  mentioned  a  man  I 

used  to  know  very  well — a  Mr.  S ,  whose  parents 

lived  in  Gouvieux. 

"S.  had  a  revolver,"  my  friend  told  me.  "He 
swore  that  he  would  shoot  the  first  German  who  put 
his  foot  in  the  town.  Six  of  them  entered  it  and 
stopped  at  the  Mairie.  Then  they  went  on  and  came 
up  to  the  cafe  he  owned.  I  suppose  he  was  crazed 
with  anger,  for  he  shot  as  soon  as  they  came  near, 
but  never  hit  any  of  them.  The  Germans  turned 
around,  riding  off  helter-skelter  back  to  the  Mairie, 
where  they  told  their  officers  what  had  happened. 
Immediately  about  forty  men  were  sent  over  to  sur- 
round the  cafe  and  take  the  man  prisoner.  Four 
others  were  in  there  at  the  time,  and  they  were  also 
pounced  upon.  Then  the  Huns  marched  back  to  the 
Mairie,  where  the  Mayor  and  his  three  deputies  were 
taken.  On  the  way  to  the  cafe  the  soldiers  happened 
to  meet  a  few  more  civilians,  who  were  forced  to  join 
the  others.  These  prisoners  were  marched  off  to  Cha- 
mont,  where  they  were  placed  in  a  row  in  a  field. 


THE  COLONEL  IS  CAPTURED    167 

They  shot  the  Mayor,  and  Mr.  S.  and  the  Mayor's 
secretary  and  were  about  to  kill  the  others  when  a 
messenger  came  to  say  that  these  might  be  allowed  to 
go  free.  The  Mayor's  body  was  buried  with  such  a 
light  covering  of  earth  that  it  was  scarcely  hidden. 
The  others  were  left  as  they  had  fallen. 

Many  other  tales  of  horror  our  old  friend  told  us, 
and  assured  us  that  everything  that  was  of  any  value 
in  the  town  had  been  looted  and  taken  away  before 
the  place  had  been  set  on  fire.  It  was  no  deed  of 
angered  or  drunken  soldiery,  but  the  systematic  de- 
struction that  was  part  and  parcel  of  Hunnish  war- 
fare. Mr.  S.'s  cafe  had  been  utterly  cleared  of 
everything  in  it  that  was  fit  to  drink,  as  had  every 
similar  place  in  the  town.  In  fact,  he  told  us,  the 
Germans  after  reaching  the  road  beyond  Senlis  on 
the  way  to  Chamont,  had  piled  up  bottles  on  both 
sides  of  the  highway,  for  a  distance  of  over  two  miles, 
representing  loot  taken  from  cellars  and  houses  and 
drinking-shops  of  all  the  towns  and  villages  and  ham- 
lets they  had  been  through. 

That  he  was  telling  us  the  exact  truth  I  am  abso- 
lutely convinced.  The  wines  and  liqueurs  and  beer 
had  disappeared,  of  course,  by  the  time  we  went  on, 
but  the  heaps  upon  heaps  of  broken  glass  at  the  sides 
of  the  road  spoke  eloquently  of  the  orgies  that  must 
have  taken  place. 

After  leaving  my  old  friend  and  reaching  Chamont 


168       FRED  MITCHELL'S  WAR  STORY 

I  went  to  see  an  old  English  caretaker.  When  we 
found  him  I  asked  how  he  had  fared  during  the  inva- 
sion and  he  declared  that  it  had  been  so  horrible  that 
he  was  still  hardly  able  to  believe  that  he  was  alive. 
His  memories  of  it  all  seemed  like  evil  dreams.  He 
told  me  how  he  and  his  wife  had  been  in  the  Grand 
Chateau  when  the  German  troops  had  first  arrived, 
about  eight  or  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening.  His  wife 
heard  the  barking  of  some  of  the  dogs  and  said  that 
they  were  making  an  unusual  amount  of  noise.  She 
advised  him  to  go  out  and  see  what  the  matter  was. 
But  he  had  told  her  that  some  one  was  probably 
trying  to  get  a  pheasant  or  a  rabbit  from  the  neigh- 
bouring coverts,  and  that,  in  view  of  the  existing  con- 
ditions, it  wasn't  worth  bothering  about. 

In  a  very  few  minutes  the  bell  rang.  He  answered 
the  summons  and  as  he  opened  the  door  a  revolver 
was  pointing  at  his  breast.  Four  officers  were  stand- 
ing there  who  asked  him  at  once  what  he  was  doing 
there,  to  which  he  replied  that  he  was  the  caretaker 
of  the  chateau.  Their  next  question  was  whether 
there  were  any  wines  at  hand,  and  he  was  ordered  to 
deliver  the  keys  of  the  cellars.  He  directed  them  to 
the  place  where  the  wine  was  kept.  When  they  came 
back,  laden  with  all  the  bottles  they  could  carry,  he 
was  ordered  to  go  with  his  wife  over  to  a  little  cottage 
the  two  occupied  when  the  masters  were  at  home. 

In  order  to  comply  with  this  order  they  had  to  walk 


THE  COLONEL  IS  CAPTURED    169 

down  an  avenue  that  passed  through  the  grounds. 
They  saw  a  number  of  men  walking  about  under  the 
trees.  Fearing  for  their  lives,  the  two  ran  back  to 
the  chateau  and  rang  the  bell  at  a  side  door.  One  of 
the  officers  answered  and  the  old  man  asked  him  if  he 
could  not  be  given  some  protection  as  far  as  his  cot- 
tage, as  the  roadway  was  full  of  soldiers.  The  officer 
blew  a  whistle  and  two  men  appeared  at  once,  who 
escorted  the  caretaker  and  his  wife  to  the  cottage. 
But  when  they  reached  this  they  were  amazed  to  find 
that  not  a  thing  had  been  left  in  it — all  the  tables, 
sideboards,  beds  and  chairs,  with  everything  else  the 
place  contained,  had  been  piled  up  in  the  road.  So 
the  only  thing  they  could  do  was  to  go  over  to  the 
pheasantry,  which  was  about  five  hundred  yards  away. 
In  this  place  he  used  to  prepare  food  for  his  young 
pheasants.  There  was  an  old  sofa  there  and  he  made 
up  a  bed  for  himself  and  his  wife,  as  best  he  could. 
They  baked  some  sort  of  bread  for  themselves  out  of 
the  meal  that  was  used  in  feeding  the  birds.  But  for 
this,  indeed,  they  would  have  been  compelled  to 
starve. 

On  the  following  night  he  decided  to  see  whether 
he  could  not  manage  to  get  a  rabbit  so  that  his  wife 
could  make  a  stew  of  it.  This  he  could  do  in  silence 
by  placing  small  pocket-nets  in  runways  and  driving 
the  game  in  them.  After  he  had  made  his  way  clear 
across  the  park  he  was  startled  to  come  across  an 


170       FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

English  soldier.  To  his  questions  the  Tommy  replied 
that  he  was  trying  to  poach  a  rabbit  or  two,  so  that  he 
might  have  a  change  in  his  diet.  Then  he  asked  the 
soldier  if  he  knew  that  there  were  more  than  fifty 
thousand  German  soldiers,  hardly  a  mile  and  a  half 
away.  At  this  the  soldier  had  laughed,  declaring  that 
such  a  thing  was  utterly  impossible.  The  old  man 
then  explained  all  about  the  arrival  of  the  Germans 
and  how  they  had  come  to  the  castle  and  had  taken 
possession  of  his  quarters.  This,  with  the  sincerity 
of  his  manner,  finally  persuaded  the  soldier  that  it 
was  the  truth.  He  asked  the  caretaker  to  come  with 
him  to  see  his  officer,  to  which  he  had  gladly  assented. 
The  interview  lasted  a  long  while,  as  he  gave  all  the 
information  he  had  and  answered  many  questions. 
The  news  was  passed  on  to  some  French  soldiers  that 
had  arrived  from  Paris  during  the  night. 

The  caretaker  was  directed  to  return  to  his  pheas- 
antry  at  once  and  to  bar  his  doors  and  make  himself 
as  safe  as  he  could.  He  was  also  warned  not  to  ven- 
ture out  till  they  came  to  release  him.  The  night  on 
which  this  happened  was  the  one  which  I  have  spoken 
of  in  telling  of  the  terrific  bombardment. 

So  the  caretaker  returned  and  locked  himself  up. 
The  frightful  din  that  arose  seemed  to  shake  the  earth 
and  caused  the  place  in  which  they  were  to  sway  so 
that  they  felt  as  if  they  were  being  rocked  in  a  boat 
in  a  heavy  sea.     His  wife  held  on  to  him,  beside  her- 


THE  COLONEL  IS  CAPTURED         171 

self  with  terror.  They  had  been  compelled  to  stay  in 
the  pheasantry  for  a  couple  of  days. 

Some  English  soldiers,  remembering  that  he  was 
there,  came  over  and  told  him  he  might  come  out. 
By  this  time  the  chateau  was  in  the  hands  of  the 
French  and  English,  the  former  being  in  by  far  the 
greater  number.  He  was  questioned  by  these  ofiicers 
and  gave  them  all  the  information  he  could. 

As  he  had  come  up  to  the  house  the  sight  that  met 
his  eyes  was  a  heart-rending  one.  In  the  brief  time 
the  Germans  had  held  the  place  they  had  thrown  out 
every  bit  of  valuable  furniture,  which  they  had  piled 
up  and  set  on  fire.  Within  the  house  every  mirror 
was  shattered.  The  glassware  was  smashed  up,  cov- 
ering the  floors,  curtains  had  been  pulled  down  and 
torn  to  pieces.  Everywhere  also  there  were  signs  that 
a  drunken  orgy  had  occurred.  It  was  such  a  scene 
of  pillage  and  destruction  that  for  days  it  had  sick- 
ened him.  He  had  gone  to  work  to  try  and  restore  a 
little  order  to  the  place,  and  save  a  few  things  that 
had  not  been  irretrievably  destroyed.  In  spite  of  his 
toil,  however,  the  place  still  was  in  the  most  terrible 
condition. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

IN   THE   WAKE   OF   THE   STORM 

During  the  course  of  our  talk  with  the  caretaker 
and  several  others  I  was  impressed  by  the  fact  that 
the  aviators  had  rendered  marvellous  service  in  help- 
ing to  bring  about  the  defeat  of  the  Huns.  Back  to 
Paris,  when  the  fifty  thousand  Germans  had  come 
near,  they  had  flown  and  spread  the  news,  giving  the 
enemy's  exact  locations  and  enabling  the  mass  of 
recruits  that  had  been  in  training  to  be  sent  forward 
immediately  to  the  places  most  in  need  of  their  assist- 
ance. When  the  German  aviators  saw  these  rein- 
forcements coming  they  doubtless  thought  it  was  a 
great  army  being  sent  against  them,  and  this  proved 
an  important  factor  in  their  retreat,  for  they  outnum- 
bered greatly  the  force,  hurled  against  them. 

The  strong  drink  everywhere  pilfered  by  the  Huns 
surely  contributed  also  to  their  undoing.  They  had 
been  engaged  in  monstrous  orgies  to  celebrate  their 
forthcoming  entrance  into  Paris,  since  they  were  abso- 
lutely persuaded  that  this  was  only  a  matter  of  a  few 
days.  From  all  that  I  heard  and  as  a  result  of  my 
own  observation  here  and  elsewhere  I  know  that  an 

172 


IN  THE  WAKE  OF  THE  STORM       173 

appalling  number  of  the  Germans  must  have  been 
besotted  and  helpless  with  drink,  a  commentary  upon 
the  famed  and  wonderful  discipline  of  the  Kaiser's 
troops.  Their  officers  were  unable  to  stop  these  orgies 
and,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  a  large  number  of  them  were 
in  just  as  beastly  a  condition  as  their  soldiers.  Lest 
this  may  be  disbelieved  I  firmly  assert  that  drunken 
officers  of  the  German  army  were  then  and  later  on  a 
common  sight  to  me.  This,  undoubtedly,  also  had  a 
good  deal  to  do  with  bringing  success  to  the  wonder- 
ful little  army  of  France. 

I  asked  the  caretaker  whether  he  had  picked  up  any 
relics  or  souvenirs  of  the  great  combat,  but  he  told 
me  he  had  been  altogether  too  busy  with  other  matters 
to  permit  of  his  hunting  for  such  things,  after  the  re- 
pulse, and  that  while  fifty  thousand  Germans  had  been 
about  him  the  occupation  of  a  collector  would  have 
been  altogether  an  unhealthy  one. 

"But  we  have  plenty  of  souvenirs  in  this  place," 
he  told  me,  pointing  with  his  finger,  "and  we  would 
spare  them  willingly.  In  that  little  garden  of  mine 
there  are  between  two  hundred  and  two  hundred  and 
fifty  of  those  Germans  buried.  But  if  you  want  sou- 
venirs you  only  need  take  a  walk  over  the  fields.  You 
can  pick  up  all  you  want  in  a  minute." 

Freddie  and  I  were  becoming  thirsty  and  we  could 
not  obtain  a  drink  of  water,  for  the  Huns,  in  pursu- 
ance of  their  civilized  mode  of  warfare,  had  poisoned 


174       FRED  MITCHELL'S  WAR  STORY 

all  the  wells  on  departing.  We  bade  the  man  good- 
bye and  turned  about,  going  a  little  distance  down  the 
road  on  a  general  tour  of  investigation.  The  sights 
that  met  us  can  never  be  forgotten  as  long  as  we  live. 
Near  the  chateau,  in  the  main  avenue,  were  the  huge 
piles  of  half  consumed  wreckage  of  the  furniture 
wantonly  set  ablaze  by  these  Vandals.  Further  on, 
in  the  fields,  along  hedges  and  fences,  at  the  side  of 
the  highways,  the  ground  was  strewn  with  German 
bodies.  Evidence  of  their  besotted  condition  was  as 
clear  as  daylight.  Some  of  them  had  no  boots  on, 
others  were  but  half  clad,  while  some  were  practically 
naked.  They  could  have  offered  little  resistance  to 
the  gallant  young  troops  that  swept  over  them  in  their 
dash  towards  the  scene  of  the  heaviest  fighting.  It 
was  a  ghastly  and  sickening  spectacle. 

We  proceeded  a  little  farther  on  and  were  rather 
surprised  to  see  eight  people  coming  towards  us  and 
leading  or  driving  some  horses  and  carts.  They  had 
come  for  the  sad  purpose  of  disinterring  the  murdered 
Mayor  and  giving  him  decent  burial  at  Senlis.  I 
chanced  to  be  acquainted  with  one  of  these  men,  who 
happened  to  have  heard  all  about  our  trips  to  Paris 
and  the  work  I  had  been  able  to  do  for  the  poor  vil- 
lagers about  Gouvieux  and  Chantilly.  He  was  very 
pleased  to  introduce  us  to  his  companions,  who  told 
us  how  glad  and  proud  they  felt  that  we  had  suc- 
ceeded in  accomplishing  so  much. 


IN  THE  WAKE  OF  THE  STORM       175 

"If  you  had  been  in  Senlis,"  said  one  of  them,  "our 
poor  town  might  perhaps  have  been  also  saved." 

I  explained  that  we  had  been  greatly  aided  by  the 
fact  that  the  oflScer  in  charge  of  our  district  had  been 
a  good  acquaintance  of  mine  before  the  war,  and  that 
this  accounted  for  the  fact  that  our  villages  had 
escaped  the  destruction  practised  wholesale  all 
around  us. 

Leaving  these  people  we  started  back  for  Chantilly 
and  home.  Passing  through  St.  Leonard  we  met  a 
party  of  six  German  soldiers  who  had  made  their 
escape  from  troops  and  searching  parties.  They 
asked  us  where  we  were  going,  with  a  mildness  of 
manner  accounted  for  by  the  fact  that  they  no  longer 
deemed  themselves  conquering  heroes.  They  asked 
us  where  we  were  going  and  I  informed  them  that  we 
were  bound  for  Chantilly. 

"Oh,  we  know  that  place!  Will  you  show  us  the 
way?" 

We  gave  them  the  necessary  directions.  These 
fellows  had  thrown  away  their  guns.  Nor  do  I  be- 
lieve that  they  had  even  retained  their  revolvers.  A 
sick  and  weary-looking  squad  they  were,  to  be  sure. 

Freddie  and  I  kept  on  towards  Gouvieux,  and  as 
soon  as  we  reached  it  we  went  to  the  Mairie  and  de- 
scribed our  trip  and  the  terrible  sights  we  had  wit- 
nessed, endeavouring  to  explain  how  matters  stood 
with  the  poor  people  in  the  sections  that  had  been  on 


176      FRED  MITCHELL'S  WAR  STORY 

the  main  lines  of  batde.  The  men  we  spoke  to  were 
utterly  appalled  by  all  that  we  told  them,  yet  I  hardly 
believe  they  could  have  realized  the  extent  of  the  de- 
struction and  the  fierceness  of  the  conflict  without 
seeing,  as  we  had,  the  aftermath  of  all  those  horrors. 

When  we  returned  home  we  found  that  my  wife  was 
terribly  excited,  having  begun  to  believe  that  we 
should  never  return.  She  knew,  of  course,  that  we 
had  only  meant  to  cover  a  few  miles,  and  could  not 
account  for  our  long  absence.  I  sought  to  say  very 
little  about  our  experiences  and  especially  about  the 
narrow  shave  of  the  morning,  but  Freddie  was  too 
much  of  a  boy  to  keep  still  very  long.  When  his 
mother  and  sister  heard  about  it  they  were  nearly 
distracted.  My  wife  looked  reproachfully  at  me,  and 
told  the  boy  that  I  was  utterly  hopeless  and  would 
probably  keep  on  taking  chances  till  I  was  killed.  At 
last  she  became  calmer  and  expressed  her  thankful- 
ness that  the  frightful  destruction  had  stopped  short 
of  our  poor  little  villages.  Much  as  we  had  suffered 
we  certainly  had  dwelt  in  an  oasis,  compared  with  the 
desolation  of  our  surroundings. 

On  the  following  morning  we  could  still  hear  the 
distant  and  continuous  roar  of  guns  by  the  hundreds 
and  thousands.  So  used  to  it  were  we,  by  this  time, 
that  now  and  then  we  no  longer  noticed  it.  I  dis- 
covered that  my  boy  had  made  arrangements  to  accom- 
pany another  boy  friend  of  his  as  far  as  the  quarries, 


IN  THE  WAKE  OF  THE  STORM       177 

where  they  thought  they  might  obtain  a  view  of  the 
great  battle  with  the  aid  of  field-glasses. 

Fortunately  Freddie  asked  his  mother's  permission, 
wliich  she  promptly  and  firmly  refused.  He  was  not 
quite  satisfied  with  this  and  made  up  his  mind  to 
come  and  ask  me.  Immediately  I  put  my  foot  down 
hard  and  forbade  him  to  go  any  further  away  than 
the  church. 

About  an  hour  later  my  wife  cried  out  to  me  as  I 
was  going  up  the  street. 

"See  what  you  have  done  by  allowing  Freddie  to  go 
off  with  that  boy,"  she  sobbed.  "They  tell  me  that  a 
young  lad  has  been  shot  on  the  road  to  Chomour!" 

She  was  beside  herself  with  grief,  feeling  perfectly 
certain  that  our  son  had  been  the  victim.  I  denied 
that  I  had  given  my  permission  for  him  to  go,  and 
naturally  felt  very  anxious  at  this  news.  A  few  min- 
utes later,  however,  I  was  surprised  and  delighted  to 
see  Freddie  coming  around  the  church  and  leading  a 
pony  harnessed  to  a  small  covered  cart.  We  found 
out  that  its  occupants  had  left  early  in  the  day,  going 
in  the  direction  of  St.  Maximin,  and  that  they  had 
been  held  up  suddenly  by  Germans  and  forced  to 
stop.  Four  of  these  poor  people  had  been  in  the 
cart.  One  of  them  was  a  boy  of  about  seventeen  and 
the  others  were  his  mother  and  sister  and  an  old 
grandmother.  Such  a  helpless  lot  must  have  offered 
a  great  temptation  indeed  to  the  Huns.     The  brutes 


178       FRED  MITCHELL^S  WAR  STORY 

lined  up  the  poor  trembling  victims  and  shot  them. 
The  boy  was  killed  instantly,  with  his  sister  and 
mother.  The  old  woman  was  left  lying  in  a  pool  of 
blood  beside  the  others,  severely  wounded.  Of  a 
similar  nature  were  uncountable  doughty  deeds  of 
arms  tending  to  show  the  Kultur  of  the  Kaiser's 
mighty  warriors. 

The  dead  were  taken  away  and  the  old  woman  sent 
off  to  a  hospital.  On  the  very  next  day  a  second 
outrage  occurred. 

A  man  who  lived  not  far  from  my  house  owned  a 
small  cottage  at  St.  Maximin  but  had  been  stopping 
with  his  daughter,  who  was  married  and  whose  hus- 
band was  away  at  the  front.  He  decided  to  take  his 
horse  and  cart  and  go  over  to  see  what  condition  his 
cottage  was  in.  When  he  was  at  the  entrance  of  the 
village  he  noticed  a  body  lying  on  the  road,  where- 
upon he  got  out  of  the  cart  and  looked  at  the  victim. 
He  was  quite  unable  to  recognize  him,  only  being  able 
to  see  that  it  was  a  very  young  boy.  The  boots  and 
everything  else  the  little  fellow  wore  had  been 
stripped  from  him.  The  man  went  as  far  as  his 
gate  and  looked  at  his  cottage,  returning  as  fast  as 
possible.  When  he  came  to  the  body  again  he  could 
not  bear  to  see  the  poor  little  nude  thing  thus  exposed 
and  covered  it  over  with  dead  leaves.  As  soon  as  he 
reached  Gouvieux  he  came  to  me  and  reported  the 
occurrence,  whereupon  I  hurried  over  to  the  Mairie 


IN  THE  WAKE  OF  THE  STORM       179 

and  related  what  he  had  told  me.  As  soon  as  we 
could  we  procured  a  horse  and  cart,  in  which  we 
placed  the  body  and  brought  it  back  with  us.  We 
brought  it  back  to  the  Mairie,  but  it  had  been  so 
abused  that  there  was  no  means  of  identifying  it.  We 
sent  word  to  the  mother  of  the  boy  who  had  been 
around  to  our  house  that  morning,  asking  her  whether 
her  boy  had  gone  off  to  see  the  firing  by  himself. 
Freddie,  we  knew,  was  at  home,  and  we  feared  the 
other  lad  had  ventured  off  alone.  We  could  not  be 
sure,  but  were  fearing  that  the  poor  little  fellow 
might  be  her  son.  When  she  first  arrived  at  the 
Mairie,  frantic  with  anxiety,  she  was  at  first  unable 
to  identify  the  child.  When  she  lifted  up  the  left 
hand,  however,  she  knew  that  the  worst  had  hap- 
pened. Some  years  previously  the  boy  had  lost  a 
little  finger. 

To  make  very  sure  of  their  task  the  murdering 
Huns  had  shot  him  twice  and  stabbed  him  three  times 
with  their  bayonets.  Yes,  it  must  be  admitted  that 
they  are  thorough  when  a  dastardly  crime  is  to  be 
committed.  The  men  had  taken  away  the  bicycle 
and  every  shred  of  his  clothing,  for  purposes  best 
known  to  themselves,  since  the  latter  at  least  could 
have  been  of  no  use  to  them.  An  inborn  instinct  for 
pillage  and  rapine,  however,  causes  men  to  do  strange 
things. 

I  need  not  describe  his  mother's  terrible  grief; 


180      FRED  MITCHELL'S  WAR  STORY 

words  are  poor  things  at  best,  in  such  circumstances. 
The  poor  soul's  husband  was  at  the  front,  somewhere 
on  the  other  side  of  Compiegne  and  Soissons,  and  the 
boy  had  been  tremendously  eager  to  go  off  and  find 
his  father.  He  had  many  a  time  expressed  this  inten- 
tion, and  his  mother  had  begged  him  not  to  try,  but 
he  kept  on  repeating  that  he  wanted  to  go  off  and  get 
news  from  his  father. 

On  the  next  morning  I  went  over  to  Chantilly  with 
Freddie,  whose  mother  had  finally  succumbed  to  his 
repeated  requests,  allowing  him  at  last  to  start  off  with 
me  again.  To  tell  the  truth  the  boy's  spirit  is  per- 
haps even  more  venturesome  than  mine.  He  was 
strongly  affected  in  the  presence  of  frightful  sights  or 
terrible  and  imminent  danger,  but  his  ambition  to 
fare  afield  and  investigate  was  as  great  as  ever  as 
soon  as  the  peril  had  passed. 

We  took  a  little  lunch  with  us  and  went  as  far  as 
Chamont.  Passing  through  the  wreckage  of  this 
place  we  looked  over  the  fields  on  either  side  of  the 
road,  not  daring,  however,  to  venture  out  into  the 
woods.  All  the  cultivated  land,  that  had  been  giving 
promise  of  fine  crops  of  grains  and  vegetables,  was 
utterly  ploughed  up  by  shell-fire.  Everything  grow- 
ing in  them  had  been  absolutely  destroyed.  The  fine 
great  trees  of  the  woods  and  copses  were  torn  down 
in  swaths,  mown  down  by  the  terrific  storm  of  steel,  or 
stood  up  with  shattered  limbs  and  leafless  branches. 


IN  THE  WAKE  OF  THE  STORM       181 

By  the  roadside  and  among  the  fields  the  heavily- 
laden  fruit  trees  had  for  the  greater  part  been  blown 
to  pieces,  and  were  destined  never  to  bear  again. 

Riding  bicycles  along  this  road  began  to  prove  a 
rather  dangerous  amusement,  since  the  highway  was 
also  everywhere  torn  up  into  great  shell-holes  and 
mounds  of  stones  and  dirt.  As  a  matter  of  fact  we 
had  our  tires  punctured  twice  and  had  to  stop  in  order 
to  repair  them,  causing  us  considerable  delay.  In 
the  fields  of  battle  we  collected  a  few  weapons  and 
other  things  to  bring  home  with  us.  Indeed  it  was  no 
trouble  to  find  such  things,  for  they  strewed  the  fields 
and  roads.  Many  parties  of  French  soldiers  were 
hard  at  work,  burying  what  seemed  like  innumerable 
dead.  The  casualties  must  have  been  small  on  our 
side  in  this  battle,  for  there  were  very  few  French  uni- 
forms among  the  bodies.  The  vast  majority  were 
Germans.  It  may  be,  however,  that  the  poor  "poilus" 
had  been  accorded  burial  first.  Still,  the  soldiers, 
when  we  spoke  to  them,  confirmed  our  impression. 

Not  far  from  the  Grand  Chateau  we  saw  about  fif- 
teen British  soldiers  who  had  been  killed  and  were 
being  buried  in  the  grounds  at  the  upper  end  of  the 
chateau. 

We  continued  on  our  journey,  passing  to  the  right 
of  Senlis,  where  the  military  barracks  formerly  were. 
Hardly  a  trace  of  them  was  left,  for  they  had  been 
blown  into  atoms,  together  with  ten  or  fifteen  adjoin- 


182       FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

ing  houses.  This  part  of  the  town  had  been  subjected 
to  the  first  and  most  violent  bombardment,  as  the 
Germans  thought  that  troops  might  be  there.  About 
the  place  some  splendid  old  trees  had  been  cut  down, 
for  all  the  world  as  if  they  had  been  felled  with  axes, 
but  for  the  frightful  splintering  of  the  trunks. 

After  we  had  looked  over  these  places  we  went 
across  some  fields  to  a  place  where  there  had  formerly 
been  a  large  farm  house.  It  was  a  terrible  picture 
of  destruction,  and  the  bodies  of  Germans  were  lying 
in  heaps  around  it. 

We  had  known  the  place  very  well,  and  picked  up 
a  few  flowers  that  had  escaped  destruction,  to  take 
home.  There  was  no  great  difficulty  in  doing  this, 
with  the  exception  that  many  times  we  were  compelled 
to  dismount  and  carry  our  wheels,  as  there  was  a 
great  number  of  dead  horses  lying  on  the  road. 
These  animals  had  belonged  to  the  German  cavalry 
and  artillery. 

This  time  we  had  incurred  no  particular  danger 
and  Freddie  had  no  tale  of  personal  danger  with 
which  to  harrow  his  mother's  feelings,  most  fortu- 
nately. She  told  me  at  once  that  they  had  been 
inquiring  for  me  from  Chantilly  and  from  the 
Mairie  at  Gouvieux.  I  was  desired  to  ride  over  to 
Paris  on  the  next  day,  in  order  to  take  letters  and 
messages  and  bring  back  such  mail  as  there  might 
be  for  our  villages.     I  had  not  made  this  trip  for 


IN  THE  WAKE  OF  THE  STORM       183 

several  days  owing  to  the  battle  that  had  been  raging 
at  Chamont. 

By  this  time  we  knew  that  the  journey  would  pro- 
vide us  with  no  especial  excitement,  in  all  probabili- 
ties, the  Germans  having  been  pushed  back  and  the 
few  stragglers  being  more  desirous  of  surrendering 
than  of  making  further  trouble,  saving  for  a  little 
stray  pillaging  and  a  bit  of  murdering  here  and  there. 
Nothing,  I  have  concluded,  can  afford  more  consola- 
tion and  comfort  to  a  Hun  suffering  from  home-sick- 
ness. It  is  probable  that  the  corpses  of  women  and 
children  turn  his  longing  thoughts  to  his  beloved  ones 
at  home. 

The  trip  was  quite  uneventful  and  we  reached  St. 
Denis  in  excellent  time.  The  constant  riding  had 
made  us  into  cyclists  of  sorts,  I  presume,  and  the  ride 
was  but  gentle  exercise,  at  this  period.  We  attended 
to  our  usual  jobs,  saving  that  we  had  no  longer  to 
convert  ourselves  into  beasts  of  burden  in  order  to 
provide  the  Huns  with  the  wherewithal  for  smoking. 
Instead  of  this  we  carried  back,  besides  the  mail,  all 
the  provisions  we  could  pack  on  our  wheels,  since 
nothing  whatever  in  the  way  of  groceries  and  such 
things  could  be  found  near  home. 


CHAPTER  XIV 


MORE    "kULTUR" 


In  the  morning  we  packed  up  our  bundles  for  the 
return  journey,  carrying  a  voluminous  mail  and  all 
the  provisions  we  could  manage  to  take  along.  We 
had  been  able  to  get  only  about  a  dozen  newspapers 
and  I  must  say  I  thanked  my  stars  that  they  were  not 
of  the  size  my  American  friends  are  accustomed  to 
struggle  with  in  the  Sunday  editions  of  their  favourite 
journals.  Had  this  been  the  case  we  would  have 
been  forced  to  cancel  our  liberal  orders  for  papers 
and  return  empty  handed  in  the  way  of  printed  news. 
In  France  the  dailies  commonly  consist  of  a  couple 
of  sheets.  During  the  war  some  have  issued  but  a 
single  one,  so  that  the  average  American  paper  looks 
like  some  sort  of  encyclopaedia  in  comparison. 

When  we  arrived  in  Lamorlaye  we  were  alarmed  to 
hear  that  there  had  been  a  number  of  German  aero- 
planes above  our  little  village.  This  made  me  most 
anxious  to  get  home  as  soon  as  possible.  We  deliv- 
ered our  mail  very  hurriedly  and  were  soon  on  our 
way  home,  riding  as  fast  as  we  could  so  that  we 
reached  the  house  quite  exhausted  and  worn  out. 

184 


MORE  "KULTUR^^ 185 

Our  people  were  delighted  as  usual  to  see  us  back, 
and  welcomed  my  nephew,  who  had  ridden  over  from 
Paris  with  us. 

There  had  been  any  amount  of  excitement  in  Gou- 
vieux,  owing  to  the  fact  that  several  bombs  had  been 
dropped  at  one  end  of  our  paddocks,  close  to  the 
church.  My  wife  told  us  that  she  had  been  dread- 
fully alarmed  during  the  night,  as  the  aeroplanes 
had  passed  right  over  their  heads.  These  particular 
machines,  I  afterwards  heard,  were  prevented  from 
going  on  to  Paris  by  the  splendid  work  of  the  French 
aviators  and  the  anti-aircraft  guns. 

On  the  day  following  we  decided  to  go  off  on  a 
trip  as  far  as  Campion  in  order  to  see  the  havoc  there. 
We  went  first  to  Senlis,  as  Bob  Peacock,  my  nephew, 
was  very  anxious  to  see  the  place  and  witness  the 
devastation  that  had  occurred  there  at  the  hands  of  the 
Huns.  We  had  a  good  look  over  the  place  and  then 
went  on  to  Chamont,  where  we  had  a  short  rest,  after 
which  we  rode  off  on  the  road  to  Campion.  We  had 
not  gone  more  than  five  or  six  miles  when  one  of  our 
wheels  broke  down.  Fortunately,  however,  we  were 
able  to  attend  to  the  necessary  repairs  ourselves. 

As  we  were  working  away  a  man  came  along,  who 
turned  out  to  be  an  Englishman  who  had  just  ridden 
over  from  Campion.  He  asked  if  it  would  be  pos- 
sible for  him  to  obtain  something  to  eat  and  drink  in 
Senlis,  telling  us  that  he  had  not  had  a  morsel  since 


186       FRED  MITCHELL^S  WAR  STORY 

leaving  the  other  side  of  Campion,  where  he  said  that 
a  good  many  of  the  enemy  were  still  in  the  neighbour- 
hood. He  informed  us  that  he  had  been  hard  put  to 
it  to  make  his  escape  from  there.  The  poor  man 
looked  completely  tired  out  and  exhausted.  I  man- 
aged to  procure  a  piece  of  bread  and  a  small  bottle 
of  white  wine,  from  a  friend  of  mine  in  the  vicinity, 
and  gave  him  most  of  it.  He  wanted  to  know  whether 
there  was  any  chance  of  his  being  able  to  get  to  Paris 
without  riding  his  bicycle  all  the  way  there,  and  I 
had  to  inform  him  that  it  was  quite  out  of  the  ques- 
tion. After  reaching  Chantilly  he  could  pass  through 
Souville,  about  fifteen  miles  further,  and  perhaps  get 
a  train  from  there.  I  had  heard  that  they  had  begun 
again  to  run  as  far  as  this  place.  He  went  along 
with  us  as  far  as  Chantilly,  but  by  this  time  he  was 
so  utterly  worn  out  that  he  could  go  no  further.  I 
went  to  an  old  caretaker  and  explained  the  case.  The 
Englishman  said  that  he  would  be  only  too  glad  to 
pay  anything  if  he  could  secure  a  place  in  which  to 
sleep  and  get  a  little  food.  Everything  was  arranged 
satisfactorily,  the  caretaker  telling  him  that  he  would 
have  to  put  up  with  such  food  as  they  had  been  com- 
pelled to  live  on  and  the  stranger  was  only  too  glad  to 
avail  himself  of  this  offer.  He  was  obliged  to  re- 
main there  for  three  days,  at  the  expiration  of  which 
the  trains  began  to  come  again,  at  the  rate  of  only  one 
a  day,  as  far  as  Chantilly. 


MORE  "KULTUR^^  187 

Before  this  man  left  he  exhibited  to  us  three  Ger- 
man knives  which  he  had  found  in  a  doorway  of  a 
house  in  which  several  old  people  had  been  slaugh- 
tered by  the  Huns,  One  woman,  he  told  us,  had  been 
hung  with  ropes  outside  the  door,  after  having  been 
stabbed.  These  knives  had  been  left  sticking  in  the 
door.  But  I  cannot  attempt  to  relate  a  hundredth 
part  of  the  atrocities  that  had  been  committed  in  his 
neighbourhood.  Again  I  may  say  that  I  wish  I  could, 
but  these  things  would  not  be  printed,  since  there  are 
few  people  who  have  the  courage  and  the  will  to  know 
all  of  the  terrible  truth. 

We  returned  to  our  house,  heart-sore  and  weary, 
and  planned  to  spend  the  next  day  quietly  at  home. 
We  were  being  surfeited  with  frightfulness  and  glad 
of  a  little  rest.  Besides,  there  were  numberless 
things  requiring  my  attention  at  home  and  any  amount 
of  personal  business  I  had  been  sadly  neglecting. 
The  task  of  straightening  things  up  in  the  kennels  had 
grown  into  a  huge  one,  for  my  poor  animals,  perforce, 
had  not  obtained  much  of  the  care  they  required. 
Their  condition  urgently  needed  my  attention. 

I  worked  at  this  and  other  things  very  hard  and  was 
busily  engaged  in  finishing  up  some  odds  and  ends 
when,  to  my  surprise,  an  Englishman  came  to  the 
door,  asking  if  there  was  any  one  who  could  speak 
English.  The  sign  of  "English  and  American  Ken- 
nels" over  my  door  had  led  him  to  make  this  enquiry. 


188      FRED  MITCHELL'S  WAR  STORY 

As  I  opened  the  door  I  had  swiftly  noticed  that  he  had 
a  German  horse  outside,  which  gave  me  little  inclina- 
tion to  trust  him  implicitly.  It  rather  looked  to  me 
as  if  he  might  perhaps  be  a  German  trying  to  parade 
as  an  Englishman.  But  he  explained  this  circum- 
stance satisfactorily,  saying  that  he  had  ridden  this 
horse  for  a  considerable  distance,  in  the  company  of 
a  Frenchman,  and  that  he  had  hurried  over  to  our 
place  for  assistance.  They  had  come  across  six  Ger- 
mans who  had  entered  a  house  and  had  attacked  the 
inmates.  The  Frenchman  had  gone  directly  over  to 
the  Mairie  to  report  and,  returning,  stopped  at  my 
door  for  the  English  soldier.  It  chanced  that  two 
English  and  two  French  soldiers  who  had  become  sepa- 
rated from  their  commands  and  become  lost  had  met 
on  the  railroad  line.  They  had  travelled  along  the 
tracks  until  at  last  they  reached  a  freight  junction  and 
a  bridge  which  one  of  the  Frenchmen  happened  to  rec- 
ognize. He  told  his  companions  that  he  knew  where 
he  was  now.  They  had  climbed  up  the  embankment 
from  which  they  had  reached  the  main  road,  over 
which  they  hurried  to  endeavour  to  join  their  regi- 
ments again.  Coming  to  a  small  cafe  by  the  roadside 
which  their  guide  happened  to  know,  they  saw  outside 
the  place  six  horses  whose  trappings  showed  that  they 
belonged  to  Uhlans.  They  crept  up  to  the  house,  the 
Englishman  hurrying  ahead  and  peeping  through  the 
window.     He  was  horrified  and  hastened  back  to  in- 


MORE  ^^KULTUR'^ 189 

form  his  companions  of  what  he  had  seen.  Immedi- 
ately they  had  turned  the  horses  loose  into  the  woods. 
The  two  French  soldiers  stood  on  guard  at  the  front 
door  while  one  of  the  Englishmen  watched  at  the  win- 
dow and  the  remaining  one  went  to  the  back  door, 
which  he  pushed  in,  entering  the  place.  At  his  ap- 
pearance the  Germans  had  shouted:  "The  English!" 
The  soldier  rushed  at  them,  felling  one  of  them  with 
the  butt  of  his  rifle  and  attacking  the  rest  of  them 
till  four  of  them  were  sprawling  on  the  floor.  The 
fifth  one  had  drawn  a  revolver  to  shoot  him,  but  the 
Englishman  watching  at  the  window  had  been  too 
quick  for  him,  firing  at  once  and  killing  the  Hun  and 
the  last  one  remaining  on  his  feet. 

The  French  and  English  soldiers  had  entered  the 
cafe,  when  this  battle  was  over,  and  shuddered  at  the 
terrible  sight  before  their  eyes.  There  was  an  old 
grandfather  who  was  pinned  with  a  bayonet  to  the 
floor  and  was  still  breathing.  The  old  grandmother 
had  been  stabbed  three  times,  also  with  bayonets. 
Upon  the  table,  bound  with  ropes  that  had  cut  deep 
into  her  flesh,  the  granddaughter  had  been  fastened. 
The  mother  had  been  tied  in  the  same  way  to  a  chair, 
and  both  these  unfortunate  creatures  had  been 
stripped  of  their  clothing. 

The  rescuers  had  lost  no  time  in  releasing  the  poor 
distracted  creatures  and  then  had  hurried  over  to  Gou- 
vieux  to  inform  us.     We  immediately  made  horses 


190       FRED  MITCHELLS  WAR  STORY 

and  carts  ready  and  hastened  over  to  the  cafe  in  order 
to  bring  relief  to  the  sufferers  and  take  care  of  the 
dead.  When  we  got  there  the  old  man  had  breathed 
his  last.  The  grandmother  expired  on  the  way.  The 
mother  and  daughter,  as  soon  as  it  could  be  managed, 
were  taken  over  to  a  hospital  where  they  had  to 
remain  for  a  long  time. 

These  things  I  have  seen  with  my  own  eyes,  but  I 
know  that  such  unspeakable  atrocities  were  the  com- 
monest of  occurrences,  having  taken  place  all  over  the 
invaded  countries.  I  cannot  tell  my  readers,  nor  will 
any  pen  ever  attempt  to  describe,  the  fiendish  cruelty 
and  savagery  of  the  barbarous  treatment  the  Huns 
everywhere  indulged  in  towards  women  and  young 
girls.  Poor  creatures  of  thirteen  and  fourteen,  of  ten 
hardly  grown  out  of  childhood,  were  brutally  mis- 
treated by  the  hundreds  and  hundreds.  At  first  these 
reports  had  sounded  so  horribly  that  I  had  refused 
to  believe  them,  putting  down  these  statements  to  the 
excited  terror  of  the  refugees.  I  was  soon  destined 
actually  to  witness  such  cases  so  that  the  truth  was 
absolutely  forced  upon  me  until  I  fully  understood  the 
brutish  nature  of  the  outrages  they  committed  far  and 
wide.  It  had  been  hard  to  realize  that  anywhere  on 
earth  people  lived  who  could  stain  their  hands  with 
such  frightfulness,  but  it  was  unfortunately  but  a 
short  time  before  no  room  was  left  for  doubt. 

Two  or  three  days  later  the  train  service  was  ex- 


MORE  "KULTUR^^ 191 

tended  from  Paris  to  Chantilly,  so  that  I  was  able  to 
journey  to  the  capital  by  train  and  bring  letters  back 
and  forth  with  no  more  trouble.  Also  I  managed  to 
bring  a  goodly  amount  of  provisions  and  a  little  lug- 
gage. At  about  this  time  the  people  who  had  fled 
from  our  villages  began  to  return  to  their  homes. 

On  one  occasion  I  happened  to  go  over  to  Lamor- 
laye  on  my  bicycle  to  have  a  look  at  the  horses  in  the 
paddocks.  I  met  several  hundred  people  who  were 
making  their  way  back  to  their  various  homes.  They 
struggled  back  in  a  steady  stream.  As  a  rule  they  did 
not  appear  to  be  as  sad  and  depressed  as  when  they 
had  fled  before  the  invasion.  As  a  matter  of  fact 
most  of  them  had  managed  to  obtain  a  better  fare  than 
fell  to  the  lot  of  our  remaining  villagers,  and  to  live 
in  places  where  they  were  sheltered  from  the  constant 
menace  under  which  we  had  been  existing.  Many 
were  desolate  enough,  however,  for  some  came  back 
to  find  that  their  homes  were  in  ruins  and  their  fields 
devastated. 

Getting  through  to  Paris  was  no  very  easy  matter 
in  those  days,  the  trains  travelling  very  slowly  and 
being  badly  crowded,  especially  on  the  return  trip. 
People  had  to  procure  special  passes  in  order  to  secure 
transportation  but  as  Freddie  and  I  already  possessed 
them  we  were  not  troubled  with  these  formalities. 
The  government  had  to  be  very  strict  in  regard  to  the 
use  of  these  trains,  for  there  were  thousands  of  eager 


192      FRED  MITCHELLS  WAR  STORY 

people  who  would  have  journeyed  upon  them  to  sat- 
isfy their  curiosity,  had  they  been  allowed  to  do  so. 
This  would  have  crowded  out  many  of  those  who  had 
urgent  need  to  travel  over  the  line,  and  the  authorities 
acted  wisely. 

On  the  following  morning  Freddie  and  my  nephew 
and  I  took  another  ride  as  far  as  Senlis,  to  see  how 
the  returned  refugees  were  faring.  No  sooner  did 
we  reach  the  town  than  we  became  deeply  conscious 
of  the  frightful  misery  that  existed  among  them. 
Women  and  children  and  old  men  were  standing 
among  the  ruins,  some  dry-eyed  and  staring  before 
them  as  the  demented  sometimes  do,  others  weeping 
and  bewailing  the  destruction  of  all  that  they  had 
ever  possessed.  Among  them  were  people  so  stag- 
gered with  their  losses  that  they  were  unable  to  move, 
while  many  others,  on  the  contrary,  were  earnestly  at 
work  digging  away  at  shapeless  heaps  of  ruins,  hop- 
ing to  find  some  little  thing  of  value,  even  though  ever 
so  slight. 

The  autumn  was  at  hand,  at  best  a  damp  and  rainy 
season  in  the  north  of  France,  but  in  spite  of  wet  and 
cold  these  poor  people  had  to  sleep  out  of  doors,  per- 
haps sheltered  by  a  bit  of  wall  still  standing.  A 
few  were  lucky  to  find  room  in  cellars  they  managed 
to  enter.  Indeed  they  suffered  grievously  for  a  long 
time,  until  some  sort  of  provision  could  be  made  for 
their  accommodation.    The  supply  of  food,  naturally. 


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FIRST   PAGE   OF    CARNET     ISSUED   TO   FRED    MITCHELL 

BY     THE     FRENCH     GOVERNMENT,      GRANTING     HIM 

PERMISSION  TO  TRAVEL  IN  THE  WAR  ZONE 


MORE  ^^KULTUR'^ 193 

was  more  than  scanty.  How  most  of  them  did  not 
starve  I  can  hardly  explain,  saving  perhaps  by  the 
resourcefulness  and  courage  under  hardship  that  is 
ingrained  in  the  French  people. 

When  we  returned  home  that  evening  we  were  de- 
lighted to  hear  that  the  French  General  Staff  was  ex- 
pected to  come  to  the  Hotel  Conde  in  Chantilly,  where 
it  was  to  make  its  headquarters.  This  was  a  most 
important  matter  for  us  all,  for  we  knew  that  now 
we  would  be  entirely  protected  by  the  soldiers  that 
would  necessarily  be  attached  to  the  high  command 
in  large  numbers. 

Former  residents  of  Gouvieux,  Chantilly  and  Lam- 
orlaye  were  beginning  to  flock  back  to  their  homes 
and  we  were  called  upon  to  do  a  great  deal  of  work 
in  the  way  of  rendering  them  assistance  in  the  re- 
covery of  all  the  valuables  that  had  been  buried  a 
number  of  weeks  before.  They  were  amazed  that 
these  villages  had  escaped  the  general  destruction,  and 
were  inclined  to  give  me  perhaps  more  credit  than  I 
deserved  in  saving  them.  At  any  rate  it  was  grati- 
fying indeed  to  see  that  they  felt  so  kindly  towards 
me  and  that  I  had  won  their  hearts  to  so  great  an 
extent.  Practically  everything  that  had  been  buried 
was  found,  and  generally  in  good  condition.  They 
had  felt  certain  that  these  things  would  be  lost,  and 
now  it  did  one's  heart  good  to  see  how  hard  they 
toiled  to  put  things  in  order  and  restore  former  con- 


194      FRED  MITCHELLS  WAR  STORY 

ditions.  They  constantly  kept  coming  to  me  and  ask- 
ing me  to  tell  them  about  my  journeys,  and  how  we 
had  fared  while  the  Germans  were  among  us,  but  I 
was  altogether  too  busy  to  tell  them  much.  The  try- 
ing days  through  which  we  had  passed  were  often 
painful  for  me  to  recall,  at  that  time,  and  I  cared  little 
to  go  over  them  again  and  again. 

Every  minute  that  I  could  spare  was  devoted  to 
looking  after  my  dogs  and  taking  them  out  for  exer- 
cise, which  they  needed  ever  so  badly  for  many  of 
them  were  in  poor  condition  through  under-feeding 
and  forced  neglect.  Very  soon  a  number  of  the  val- 
uable horses  that  had  been  taken  away  in  the  prov- 
inces were  brought  back.  Things  about  us  began  to 
resume  a  more  normal  appearance  and  every  one 
looked  more  hopeful  and  bright.  In  the  far  dis- 
tance we  could  still  hear  the  roar  of  the  cannons,  so 
that  we  were  always  kept  mindful  of  the  fact  that  the 
fighting  was  going  on.     That  was  impossible  to  forget 


CHAPTER  XV 

A   PRISONER  AGAIN 

We  very  soon  took  another  trip  to  Paris,  where  we 
indulged  ourselves  to  the  extent  of  going  to  see  mov- 
ing pictures.  Freddie  and  I  returned,  loaded  as  us- 
ual with  provisions  and  other  things.  On  our  way 
home  the  boy  began  to  speak  about  a  beautiful  sword 
that  had  been  brought  back  from  close  to  the  front 
lines,  by  a  gentleman  we  had  met  and  who  treasured 
it  as  a  souvenir. 

"Dad,"  he  suddenly  told  me,  "why  shouldn't  we 
go  over  in  the  direction  of  Compiegne  and  see  if  we 
can't  pick  up  something  like  that?" 

"I'm  afraid  we  might  run  into  danger  again,"  I 
told  him,  "and  I'm  sure  your  mother  won't  approve 
of  our  going." 

"But  I  would  dearly  like  one  of  those  swords,"  he 
persisted. 

"We  might  get  one  in  an  unpleasant  way,"  I  an- 
swered. 

"Then  you  won't  go.  Dad?"  he  asked,  regretfully. 

"Fm  afraid  it  might  be  too  dangerous,"  I  replied. 

195 


196      FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

"But  we've  been  through  such  a  lot  of  danger  to- 
gether, Dad.     Nothing  worse  can  ever  happen  to  us." 

"Well,  I'll  see  what  your  mother  says  about  it," 
I  told  him,  and  tried  to  change  the  conversation. 
This,  however,  did  not  quite  suit  him  and  he  spoke 
again  of  how  interesting  it  would  be  to  see  the  battle- 
fields further  away  than  we  had  ever  been,  and  of 
how  many  beautiful  things  must  be  lying  there  wait- 
ing to  be  picked  up. 

The  more  I  thought  over  the  matter  the  more  Fred- 
die's idea  appealed  to  me.  I  was  not  particularly 
keen  about  picking  up  more  Boche  trophies,  for  we 
already  had  a  good  many  of  them  lying  about  the 
house,  but  the  prospect  of  seeing  more  of  the  battle- 
fields and  of  the  invaded  country  appealed  to  me  irre- 
sistibly. That  evening  at  supper  I  told  my  wife  that  I 
was  thinking  of  going  in  the  direction  of  Compiegne 
and  Soissons  to  investigate  some  matters.  Freddie 
immediately  jumped  at  this  cue  and  began  begging 
me  to  take  him  and  imploring  his  mother  to  allow  him 
to  go. 

She  answered  that  he  had  roved  about  the  country 
a  good  deal  during  the  last  couple  of  months,  and 
told  him  that  he  should  remain  home  and  look  after 
the  dogs.  I  began  to  pack  up  my  things  and  Freddie 
helped  me,  looking  very  gloomy  indeed. 

I  had  to  go  to  the  Mairie  for  the  passport  that  was 
always  required  for  any  trip  about  the  country,  and 


A  PRISONER  AGAIN 197 

while  I  was  there  my  wife  asked  Freddie  why  he  was 
looking  so  unhappy. 

He  replied  that  it  was  quite  wrong  of  her  to  allow 
me  to  go  by  myself,  because  if  anything  happened 
to  me  no  one  would  ever  know  anything  about  it.  Her 
reply,  naturally,  was  to  the  effect  that  if  something 
happened  to  both  of  us  she  would  be  no  better  in- 
formed, but  finally,  seeing  how  disappointed  the  boy 
was,  she  told  him  that  he  might  as  well  get  ready  and 
go. 

In  the  meanwhile,  thinking  that  matters  would 
probably  arrange  themselves  in  that  way,  I  procured 
passports  as  far  as  Compiegne  for  the  two  of  us  I 
was  joking  a  little  with  the  old  secretary,  and  telling 
him  about  my  son's  wish  to  go. 

"I  think  as  he  does,"  said  the  secretary.  "If  you 
had  been  meant  to  be  killed  you  would  have  been 
done  for  long  ago.     Be  very  careful." 

Returning  to  the  house  I  found  Freddie  beaming. 
He  had  his  bicycle  ready  and  his  sandwiches  and 
other  provisions  packed  away.  We  said  good-bye  to 
my  wife  and  daughter  and  started,  riding  briskly 
away  on  a  sunshiny  cool  day.  We  went  through 
Chantilly  to  Senlis,  where  the  guard  at  the  bridge, 
who  happened  to  know  me,  never  looked  at  our  pass- 
ports but  asked  us  if  we  were  going  out  to  look  for 
more  trouble.  At  this  I  laughed,  little  thinking 
that  the  trouble  was  really  coming. 


198       FRED  MITCHELLS  WAR  STORY 

We  stopped  for  something  to  eat  at  Chamont,  after 
which  we  rode  through  a  number  of  villages.  Most 
of  these  had  been  blown  to  pieces,  though  occasion- 
ally a  few  houses  would  be  standing,  on  one  side  or 
other  of  the  main  street.  Most  of  these,  however,  had 
been  on  fire,  and  invariably  the  contents  had  been 
looted  or  at  least  thrown  out  into  the  street  or  yards. 
Finally  we  reached  the  beginning  of  the  large  forest 
of  Compiegne.  Our  way  from  Chamont  had  led  us 
through  fields  that  were  devastated,  while  the  road 
had  constantly  been  torn  up  into  shell-holes,  com- 
pelling us  often  to  jump  off  our  wheels  and  walk  at 
the  side  of  the  highway,  or  even  in  the  ditches.  A 
great  part  of  the  beginning  forest  was  composed  of 
nothing  but  fire-blackened  trees. 

At  a  half -wrecked  place  that  had  been  a  cafe  we 
stopped  for  water  and  ate  some  of  the  food  we  had 
brought  with  us.  It  was  kept  by  an  old  man  with  a 
withered  arm,  who  warned  us  to  be  very  careful  as 
he  believed  there  were  a  lot  of  Germans  farther  on 
in  the  woods.  As  we  were  talking  two  men  appeared 
on  the  road,  coming  towards  us. 

"There's  a  couple  of  them,"  the  old  man  called  to 
me. 

But  on  looking  more  carefully  I  discovered  that 
they  were  two  English  soldiers  who  had  lost  their 
way  and  were  wandering  about,  trying  to  discover 
some  one  who  could  understand  and  direct  them. 


A  PRISONER  AGAIN 199 

Their  feet  were  so  dreadfully  blistered  and  sore  that 
they  were  walking  barefooted.  They  carried  their 
coats  and  shoes  and  stockings  on  their  arms  and 
walked  at  the  side  of  the  road,  where  occasional 
patches  of  grass  gave  them  easier  footing. 

Thinking  that  again  they  would  not  be  understood, 
they  made  signs  that  they  wanted  water  to  drink. 

"Are  you  English?"  I  asked. 

The  expression  of  their  sun-browned  faces,  caked 
with  dust  and  worn  with  suffering,  changed  at  once. 
They  were  so  happy  to  be  addressed  in  their  own 
tongue  that  they  could  only  stammer  that  they  were, 
at  first.  As  soon  as  I  explained  to  the  old  man  that 
they  were  English  he  leaped  towards  them  and  ac- 
tually kissed  their  hands. 

"Ce5  braves  Anglais F^  he  cried,  running  back 
into  the  house  and  bringing  out  food  and  some  won- 
derful brand  of  beer  which  he  said  he  had  made  him- 
self. 

The  poor  lads  fell  hungrily  upon  this  food.  They 
had  been  lost  in  the  forest  for  three  days  and  nights, 
making  every  effort  to  find  their  way  back  towards 
their  commands.  As  soon  as  they  had  eaten  the  old 
man  went  and  got  them  water  so  that  they  might 
wash  their  feet  and  told  them  that  they  must  remain 
in  the  house  with  him  until  they  could  walk  again 
without  pain. 

During  a  night  attack,  they  told  me,  they  had  been 


200       FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

cut  off  by  the  enemy,  who  had  killed  two  other  Eng- 
lish soldiers  who  had  been  with  them.  They  had  re- 
mained in  hiding  in  the  forest  for  a  long  time,  till 
they  thought  it  safe  to  try  to  return  within  their  own 
lines.  But  they  had  become  utterly  lost  and  had  a 
terrible  time  until  we  saw  them. 

We  had  to  go  on  and  therefore  bade  them  good-bye 
and  good  luck,  glad  indeed  that  the  poor  chaps  had 
found  a  refuge  where  they  would  be  well  taken  care 
of.  We  went  straight  on  and  passed  through  the  lit- 
tle town  of  Compiegne.  There  seemed  to  have  been 
no  incendiarism  there,  the  only  damage  in  the  pretty 
old  town  being  due  to  huge  long  distance  shells  that 
had  exploded  in  some  of  the  streets  and  buildings. 
We  rode  out  of  the  town,  finding  the  roads  terribly 
torn  up  and  went  on  for  perhaps  ten  miles,  till  we 
reached  the  village  of  Mercin  where  we  had  some  min- 
eral water  to  drink.  An  old  woman  told  us  that  we 
should  turn  back,  saying  that  there  were  Prussians  not 
far  off.  I  told  Freddie  that  it  was  more  than  time  for 
us  to  return  but  he  begged  to  go  on  a  little  further, 
probably  eager  to  keep  an  eye  open  for  lost  swords 
or  other  weapons.  We  went  on  for  about  a  couple 
of  miles,  coming  to  a  little  growth  of  dark  firs.  Sud- 
denly the  harsh  order  to  halt,  which  we  had  been  so 
accustomed  to  but  a  few  weeks  before,  sounded  loudly 
and  most  unpleasantly  in  our  ears.  Eight  of  the 
Huns,  armed  with  guns  and  revolvers,  asked  us  where 


A  PRISONER  AGAIN  201 

we  were  going.  We  answered  that  we  had  meant  to 
go  but  a  very  little  farther  and  then  return  to  Com- 
piegne. 

I  felt  that  we  were  in  a  terrible  predicament. 
These  men  were  snarling  and  swearing  at  us  furi- 
ously. Hatred,  desire  for  revenge,  the  beastly  blood- 
lust  of  brutes  to  whom  killing  has  become  an  outlet 
for  all  their  passions,  were  clearly  depicted  on  their 
faces  and  in  their  manner. 

"Yes,  you  shall  certainly  go  farther  on,"  one  of 
them  roared  out. 

They  ordered  us  to  follow  them.  One  showed  the 
way  and  the  others  brought  up  the  rear,  with  guns 
and  pistols  threatening.  We  had  to  push  our  bicycles 
along.  This  lasted  until  they  had  taken  us  three 
or  four  miles  away,  over  the  roughest  roads.  We 
reached  some  quarries,  near  which  were  seven  or  eight 
tents.  Our  wheels  were  taken  from  us  and  we  were 
ordered  to  go  into  one  of  these  tents.  Our  progress 
had  been  frequently  accelerated  by  blows  from  the 
butts  of  their  guns,  while  bayonets  were  held  so  close 
to  us  that  there  was  no  inclination  on  our  part  ever  to 
tarry.  Once  within  the  tent  we  were  informed  that 
we  should  have  to  wait  in  there  until  they  had  gone 
for  an  officer,  and  that  we  should  be  shot  the  moment 
we  stepped  out  of  it. 

For  two  or  three  hours  we  remained  there,  soldiers 
at  times  putting  their  heads  in  to  look  at  us  and  call 


202       FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

us  pigs  or  any  other  insulting  name  they  could  think 
of,  and  shaking  their  fists  at  us. 

Things  looked  so  very  black  that,  very  naturally,  I 
decided  that  I  would  probably  be  killed.  Thinking 
they  might  possibly  spare  my  boy  a  little  longer,  I 
urged  him,  speaking  very  low  or  whispering,  to  pay 
no  attention  whatever  to  me.  I  made  him  promise 
that  if  he  could  see  a  chance  to  save  himself  he  would 
seize  it  immediately.  Knowing  that  he  would  prob- 
ably be  taken  off  and  questioned  apart  from  me  I 
told  him  that  we  must  relate  all  that  we  had  done  for 
the  Germans  in  Gouvieux;  how  we  had  brought  them 
tobacco  and  cigarettes  and  newspapers,  and  how  we 
had  mailed  letters  for  them. 

After  a  long  wait  a  man  came,  probably  a  sergeant, 
as  far  as  I  could  make  out  from  his  uniform.  He 
was  as  rough  and  uncouth  as  the  others,  and  told  us 
that  we  should  have  to  remain  all  night  in  the  tent 
as  the  officer  who  was  to  question  us  would  not  be  there 
before  morning. 

After  he  had  left  us  to  our  own  uncomfortable  de- 
vices we  were  thrown  a  couple  of  pieces  of  bread.  It 
had  probably  been  made  over  a  ramrod  or  bayonet 
by  running  the  latter  into  a  lump  of  dough  and  hold- 
ing it  over  the  fire.  At  any  rate  there  was  a  long 
hole  in  each  piece.  When  we  finally  broke  them  the 
interior  seemed  to  contain  a  mouldy  dust  of  evil 
odour.     We  were  also  each  handed  a  rusty  preserve 


A  PRISONER  AGAIN 203 

tin  containing  water  also  highly  scented,  probably 
from  their  former  contents  that  had  been  allowed  to 
become  putrid.  Our  bicycles,  fortunately,  had  been 
placed  inside  the  tent,  though  the  valves  of  the  tires 
had  been  removed  so  that  the  machines  could  not  be 
used.  In  our  bags  we  found  a  small  remnant  of  our 
lunch,  which  we  ate,  for  at  this  time  we  were  utterly 
unable  to  stomach  the  bread  we  had  been  thrown. 

There  was  no  such  thing  as  sleep  for  us.  We  sat 
close  together  and  I  think  that  my  boy  managed  to 
have  a  wink  now  and  then,  although  he  was  certainly 
wakeful  most  of  the  time.  Often  when  I  thought  he 
slept  I  found  that  he  was  only  huddled  against  me 
and  ready  to  whisper  some  of  the  fears  which  obsessed 
him.  Mine  were  bad  enough,  in  all  conscience,  and 
my  heart  bled  for  the  poor  lad.  Finally  the  morning 
broke.  We  were  chilled  through,  naturally,  for  we 
had  no  covering  and  upon  the  ground  there  was  but 
a  thin  layer  of  recently  cut  grass. 

A  couple  of  men  came  in  and  took  our  bicycles  out 
to  the  entrance  of  an  old  quarry  and  made  us  follow 
them  there.  They  made  us  repair  the  tires,  which 
had  been  punctured,  and  put  the  valves  back  in  the 
tires.  As  soon  as  this  was  finished  I  was  taken  back 
to  the  tent  where  they  placed  a  chain  on  my  left  leg 
and  fastened  it  to  the  tent  pole. 

"We'll  show  you  what  we're  going  to  do  to  all  our 
English   prisoners,"    one   of   them    snarled    at   me. 


204       FRED  MITCHELL^S  WAR  STORY 

"We'll  treat  them  worse  than  dogs,  as  they  de- 
serve." 

He  left  me  there,  feeling  terribly  anxious  at  being 
separated  from  my  son.  I  was  brought  a  piece  of 
the  same  kind  of  bread  we  had  received  on  the  pre- 
vious evening.  I  thought  it  would  be  wise  for  me  to 
try  and  eat  as  much  of  it  as  I  could,  fearing  that  I 
would  become  so  weak  that  I  would  be  unable  to 
stand  any  exertion  or  suffering  if  I  became  too  hun- 
gry.    It  was  hard  work,  however. 

During  the  day  I  was  not  much  troubled  by  them, 
saving  for  the  pleasure  they  took  in  throwing  an  occa- 
sional stone  or  old  brickbat  at  me  to  see  me  dodge. 
I  could  see  that  they  were  anxious  that  I  should  get 
angry.  It  would  have  given  them  the  excuse  they 
wanted  to  really  injure  or  kill  me,  and  I  remained 
silent. 

Towards  dusk,  to  my  inexpressible  relief,  Freddie 
was  brought  back  to  me,  and  I  was  glad  indeed  to  find 
that  he  had  not  been  hurt.  They  had  compelled  him 
to  ride  his  bicycle  perhaps  one  or  two  hundred  yards 
ahead  of  a  soldier  who  rode  mine,  pointing  at  a 
spot  he  must  stop  at.  He  obeyed  and  dismounted, 
when  the  soldier  overtook  him  and  looked  about  him, 
carefully.  They  then  returned.  I  have  no  doubt 
they  feared  that  some  of  our  troops  might  be  near 
and  had  sent  him  first  that  he  might  draw  their  fire. 
After  this  they  had  taken  him  to  another  place  where 


A  PRISONER  AGAIN 20^ 

there  were  some  officers  and  a  number  of  other  men. 
They  had  questioned  him  at  great  length,  and  had 
given  him  a  little  food  rather  better  than  bread.  The 
boy  was  told  that  on  the  following  morning  he  would 
be  taken  away. 

While  he  spoke  he  was  much  afraid  that  he  would 
be  overheard,  and  whispered  very  low.  He  told  me 
that  from  what  he  had  been  able  to  make  out  there  was 
no  intention  to  kill  us  at  once,  and  that  perhaps  they 
might  not  continue  to  treat  me  so  badly.  We  were  so 
exhausted  that  we  managed  to  sleep  a  little,  that 
night,  in  turns.  I  woke  up  very  often,  of  course,  as 
did  Freddie,  and  we  felt  the  cold  severely. 

In  the  morning  they  came  for  us  both  and  took  off 
my  chain.  I  was  taken  into  a  quarry  and  ordered 
to  shovel  rubbish,  tin-cans,  old  bottles  and  broken 
stone  to  one  side,  where  they  appeared  to  be  about 
to  mount  some  sort  of  cannon  or  machine-gun.  Fred- 
die was  taken  away,  with  both  bicycles.  The  latter 
I  never  saw  again.  My  boy  was  gone  and  again  I 
was  nearly  distracted  with  fear  of  whatever  might  be 
in  store  for  him. 

I  was  kept  working  hard  until  noon,  my  efforts 
being  encouraged  with  blows,  the  throwing  of  stones 
and  rubbish,  and  such  diversions  as  pitching  shovels 
and  spades  at  me  in  order  to  see  me  jump.  When  I 
was  allowed  to  stop  I  was  given  more  of  that  war- 
bread  and  some  tepid  water  of  undescribable  flavour. 


206      FRED  MITCHELL'S  WAR  STORY 

in  which  a  few  old  sausage-skins  appeared  to  be  float- 
ing. Of  this  I  am  not  absolutely  sure,  of  course,  for 
the  exact  nature  of  these  fragments  was  hard  indeed 
to  make  out. 

My  repast  was  no  lengthy  one,  on  this  occasion,  and 
I  had  to  resume  my  labours.  Most  of  the  men  in  the 
place  left,  an  hour  or  two  later,  and  I  was  able  to  take 
a  little  rest,  now  and  then,  when  the  man  on  guard 
chanced  to  be  looking  the  other  way.  This  fellow 
seemed  rather  decent;  he  appeared  to  see  how  ex- 
hausted I  was  and,  I  think,  took  some  slight  pains 
to  turn  away  and  give  me  an  occasional  chance  to 
breathe.  He  took  me  back  to  the  tent,  in  the  evening, 
and  I  thanked  him.  What  his  nationality  was  I  don't 
know.  He  did  not  appear  to  be  a  German.  Not  a 
word  of  French  could  he  speak,  nor  more  than  one  or 
two  of  English.  He  answered  me  very  gruffly,  saying 
something  I  could  not  understand.  The  chain  was 
again  fastened  to  my  leg  and  I  was  left  tied  to  my 
post. 

I  watched  eagerly  for  Freddie's  return,  hoping 
that  he  would  turn  up  as  had  occurred  before.  It 
grew  later  and  later,  and  still  I  kept  hoping  and  listen- 
ing, until  finally  the  hour  was  so  advanced  that  I  knew 
it  was  scarcely  possible  that  they  would  bring  him 
back.  Whether  he  had  been  killed  or  not,  of  course, 
I  had  no  means  of  knowing.  There  followed  a  night 
of  suffering,  worry  and  anxiety  during  which  I  could 


A  PRISONER  AGAIN 207 

not  obtain  a  moment's  rest  or  surcease.  I  was  be- 
ginning to  believe  that  they  had  made  away  with  the 
boy  and  were  keeping  me  alive  simply  in  the  hope  of 
extorting  information. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

FREE   AT    LAST 

Came  another  morning.  I  was  feeling  rather  more 
dead  than  alive,  by  this  time,  but  I  was  able  to  rise 
from  the  ground,  stiff  with  cold,  when  soldiers  came 
in  to  take  off  my  chain.  Bidding  me  to  go  with  them, 
they  marched  me  off  through  woods  and  quarries  for 
a  distance  of  perhaps  five  hundred  yards  to  a  tum- 
bled down  wooden  hut  that  may  have  served  as  some 
sort  of  shed  for  the  storing  away  of  tools.  They  had 
hidden  it  with  cut  saplings  and  branches,  so  that  a 
very  short  distance  off  it  was  practically  invisible. 
Several  officers  were  about  this  hovel,  and  one  within 
it,  who  began  to  question  me. 

He  asked  me  why  I  had  come  there,  and  how  many 
French  or  British  soldiers  I  had  seen  on  the  road.  To 
this  I  truthfully  answered  that  I  had  seen  none,  but  he 
sneered,  absolutely  disbelieving  me.  He  was  to  the 
full  as  brutal  and  coarse  as  his  men,  in  spite  of  his 
commanding  position.  He  told  me  he  didn't  want 
any  of  my  lies,  and  when  I  answered  that  I  was  not 
lying  he  took  up  some  heavy  object  that  was  on  the 
rough  table,  and  threw  it  at  me  with  all  his  strength. 

208 


AUTORISATION    do.   CIRCUhEH; 

dans  ie  volsina^e  de  !a  Residence,  si  ie  Titulalre  a  cbtena 
le  Permis  tie  Sdjoisr  dans  ia  ZORe  des  Amtees 


— -      IIU 


Ls  TituJaire  qui  a  obteuu  le  Periras  de  Sejour  dans  fa  Zon/i 
des  Arniecs,  nst  aulori'^e.  portftiir  du  present  Caruet. 
9  ciroulcr,  san^  atitrti  farmi'iiti*.  clmx,  htme^'  fixees  par 
VAutnritt;  tiulitairp,  ^-, 


_iz 


NT 


'  »i=*£^ 


%  :m  OAS  DE  CHAKGEMENf  DE  HfiSIDENCE 
;^  dans  la  Zone  des  Armees 


urns  Vi  cemmunc  d$  sa  noiivelle  residence  . , . 


M^   f'n-s  rif' 


FRED    MITCHELL'S   WAR   ZONE    PASSPORT 


FREE  AT  LAST  209 

It  was  done  so  quickly  that  in  the  dim  light  of  the 
place  I  could  not  see  what  it  was.  Instinctively  I 
dedged  and  the  thing  only  glanced  from  my  shoulder. 

"We'll  make  an  example  of  you!"  he  swore  furi- 
ously at  me.  "We'll  teach  you  dirty  English  to  come 
prying  into  our  affairs!" 

To  the  papers  and  the  Colonel's  passport,  which  I 
showed  him,  he  paid  not  the  slightest  attention,  beyond 
glancing  at  them.  In  regard  to  the  latter  he  sneered 
again. 

"Yes,  we've  a  lot  of  those  half-bred  sympathiz- 
ing Frenchmen  among  Alsatians  and  Lorraines,"  he 
snarled,  referring  to  the  men  of  the  conquered  prov- 
inces who  were  forced  to  serve  in  the  German  army. 

He  ordered  the  men  to  take  me  back  and  keep  me 
under  the  strictest  guard,  without  allowing  me  a 
moment's  liberty.  Some  things  he  shouted  to  them 
in  German,  which  I  was  unable  to  understand.  The 
soldiers  marched  me  back  to  the  tent  and  fastened  me 
up.  Some  time  later  the  man  who  had  treated  me 
rather  decently  in  the  quarry  chanced  to  put  his  head 
in  the  tent,  and  I  begged  him  to  tell  me  what  had  hap- 
pened to  my  son.  He  never  answered  a  word  and 
went  on  his  way,  causing  my  fears  to  harass  me  more 
strongly  than  ever. 

Presently  a  soldier  came,  carrying  a  box  in  which 
were  pieces  of  bread.  He  took  one  of  them  and 
yelled  out  to  me,  in  broken  French: 


210       FRED  MITCHELL^S  WAR  STORY 

"Here,  you  dirty  English  swine,  this  is  good  enough 
for  you!" 

With  this  he  spat  on  the  bread  and  tossed  it  at  me, 
laughing.  Others  who  were  watching,  through  the 
open  flaps  of  the  tent,  joined  in  his  merriment.  It 
was  evidently  a  splendid  joke  to  them. 

He  went  away.  By  this  time  I  was  growing  fright- 
fully hungry.  Reluctant  to  touch  the  filthy  morsel. 
I  paid  no  attention  to  it  for  some  minutes  but  finally 
took  courage  to  pick  it  up.  There  was  a  little  water 
in  a  can  near  at  hand,  and  I  took  some  of  it  in  my 
hand  to  wash  off  the  bread.  It  happened  that  he 
passed  the  tent  again  as  I  was  doing  this.  He  rushed 
at  me  furiously  and  made  a  stab  at  me  with  his  bay- 
onet. Fortunately  I  moved  in  time,  and  the  point 
only  tore  through  my  clothes  and  pricked  me  rather 
hard  on  my  left  side,  only  tearing  the  skin. 

"I'll  teach  you  to  wash  your  bread!"  he  roared. 
"We're  not  clean  enough  for  you,  are  we?" 

The  man  finally  left  and  I  found  myself  eating  that 
bread,  the  most  revolting  food  that  had  ever  passed 
my  lips.  As  it  grew  duskier  a  troop  of  some  thirty 
or  forty  men  came  along,  who  had  not  been  in  this 
place  since  my  arrival.  I  heard  the  word  "English" 
mentioned,  and  some  of  them  came  and  peered  into 
the  tent.  They  picked  up  stones  and  brickbats  and 
threw  them  in  but,  as  it  was  somewhat  dark,  they  did 


FREE  AT  LAST 211 

me  little  harm.  I  had  taken  refuge  behind  the  pole 
and  only  one  or  two  struck  me. 

It  had  begun  to  rain  a  little,  and  the  bitter  cold  and 
dampness,  as  well  as  my  awful  anxiety  for  my  son, 
prevented  me  from  having  more  than  fitful  moments 
of  sleep.  I  did  not  feel  as  if  I  could  possibly  ever 
get  warm  any  more.  The  chill  struck  through  my 
bones  and  my  teeth  chattered. 

On  the  next  morning,  when  it  finally  came,  the  men 
seemed  restless  and  nervous,  as  if  something  was  im- 
pending or  they  had  cause  for  anxiety.  They  took 
more  trouble  than  ever  to  come  close  to  my  tent  and 
keep  up  a  flood  of  filthy  abuse  and  their  bombardment 
with  stones,  with  which,  however,  they  seldom  hit  me. 
I  feel  thankful  to  this  day  that  Germans  don't  prac- 
tise cricket  or  baseball.  I  had  during  all  this  time 
heard  the  distant  roar  of  the  never  ending  bombard- 
ment in  the  distance,  but  now  it  seemed  to  be  coming 
nearer. 

About  noon,  looking  through  the  open  end  of  the 
tent,  I  saw  some  aeroplanes  coming  in  our  direction. 
The  Germans  were  firing  at  them  rapidly.  They  ap- 
peared to  me  to  be  of  the  British  type,  though  as  to 
this  I  am  not  positive.  I  heard  the  crashing  of  ex- 
ploding bombs  and,  as  I  was  looking,  a  terrible  ex- 
plosion occurred  in  the  mouth  of  the  cave  I  had 
worked  in,  about  fifty  or  sixty  yards  away.     When 


212       FRED  MITCHELLS  WAR  STORY 

the  dust  and  dirt  and  smoke  cleared  off  I  could  see 
that  the  place  was  a  mass  of  debris.  Fragments  of 
rock  had  flown  everywhere,  many  of  them  striking 
my  tent.  I  was  lying  on  my  stomach  on  the  ground, 
thinking  that  the  next  bomb  might  find  me  out.  The 
machines  passed  away  in  the  distance.  However  bad 
a  scare  they  had  given  me,  they  served  to  keep  my  tor- 
mentors away.  The  soldiers  had  disappeared  and 
hidden  themselves  somewhere  or  other,  and  they  did 
not  come  around  until  dusk.  They  threw  me  another 
piece  of  bread. 

"That's  the  last  you'll  get  from  us,"  a  man  told  me. 
"Tomorrow  you'll  be  put  away  with  a  lot  more  Eng- 
lishmen." 

The  wind  had  risen  and  seemed  to  keep  the  rain 
off.  During  the  night  a  regular  gale  began  to  blow 
and  I  felt  colder  than  ever.  The  expectation  of  be- 
ing executed  the  next  morning  was  no  great  comfort. 
It  would  end  my  worries,  of  course,  but  the  method  of 
so  doing  hardly  appealed  to  me.  I  slept  as  badly  as 
usual,  and  must  have  presented  a  fairly  haggard  ap-> 
pearance  when  the  morning  came.  The  tent  had  been 
nearly  blown  down.  The  soldiers  appeared  to  be 
making  ready  to  leave  but  one  of  them  rushed  over 
to  me. 

"You've  been  trying  to  pull  that  tent  down!"  he 
shouted. 

"No,  it's  the  wind,"  I  sought  to  explain. 


FREE  AT  LAST  213 


"Don't  you  answer  me!"  he  yelled  with  an  oath 
and  lifted  the  butt  of  his  rifle  to  strike  me. 

I  saw  the  blow  coming  and  lifted  my  arm  above 
my  head  to  ward  it  off".  The  heavy  butt  crashed  down 
and  I  felt  the  bones  of  my  right  forearm  splintering. 
The  guy-ropes  and  central  post  of  the  tent  had  been 
loosened  by  the  gale  to  such  an  extent  that  my  effort 
to  move  backward  caused  my  leg  that  was  tied  to  the 
post  to  give  this  a  powerful  pull.  The  heavy  post 
came  down,  stunning  me,  and  the  tent  collapsed  over 
me.  The  man  had  jumped  away,  I  presume,  and  I 
have  no  doubt  that  he  thought  I  had  been  killed. 

How  long  I  lay  unconscious  I  have  not  the  slightest 
idea  of.  When  I  finally  regained  my  senses  I  began 
to  feel  a  terrible  pain  in  my  shattered  arm.  I  rose 
to  a  sitting  position,  holding  the  injured  limb  and 
unable  to  keep  from  moaning.  I  had  to  ask  myself 
why  they  didn't  kill  me  outright,  for  the  suffering  was 
unbearable.  Looking  about  me  to  see  where  the  sol- 
diers were  I  was  surprised  to  see  none  of  them.  They 
had  utterly  disappeared.  I  had  no  doubt  they  would 
return  soon  and  remained  as  I  was,  rather  wishing  that 
the  soldier's  threat  had  been  executed.  Finally  I  be- 
gan to  feel  that  the  Huns  were  perhaps  not  going  to 
return.  If  they  thought  I  was  dead  they  would  no 
longer  trouble  about  me,  and  the  idea  that  I  might 
escape  after  all  struck  me  all  of  a  heap. 

The  falling  of  the  pole  had  uprooted  the  buried  end 


214       FRED  MITCHELL'S  WAR  STORY 

of  it  and  I  managed  to  slip  the  chain  over  it.  No 
longer  was  I  tied  like  a  dog  to  its  kennel,  but  I  still 
had  to  bear  the  chain  as  there  was  no  means  of  un- 
locking the  fastening.  The  canvas  of  the  tent  had 
been  torn  in  a  good  many  places.  Putting  down  my 
foot  upon  a  piece  of  it  I  managed  with  my  left  hand 
to  tear  a  long  strip  of  it  off.  Then,  resting  my  injured 
arm  upon  a  block  of  stone  that  had  been  close  by,  I 
managed  to  bind  it  around  and  around,  as  tightly  as 
I  could  bear  it.  The  exertion  this  cost  me  seemed  to 
exhaust  my  strength,  and  I  had  to  lie  down  for  a  time, 
feeling  nearly  dead  to  the  world.  How  long  this 
period  lasted  I  don't  know.  My  impression  is  that 
perhaps  an  hour  elapsed  thus.  Presently  my  heart 
thumped  violently.  I  heard  the  voices  of  Germans, 
not  far  away.  I  jumped  to  my  feet,  as  best  I  could. 
On  the  ground  I  saw  some  pieces  of  rain-sodden  bread 
which  I  picked  up  and  put  in  my  left  pocket.  After 
this,  bending  low,  I  ran  towards  the  quarry.  Fifty 
or  sixty  yards  away  from  the  opening  that  had  been 
filled  in  by  the  explosion  of  the  bomb  there  was  an- 
other entrance  into  which  I  crept.  I  found  that  it 
was  a  sort  of  cave  in  which  mushrooms  had  formerly 
been  cultivated,  as  is  the  frequent  custom  in  that  part 
of  the  country.  I  had  no  doubt  that  if  the  men  who 
were  coming  were  my  brutish  acquaintances  they 
would  soon  institute  a  search  for  me  and  finish  their 
job.     I  crept  further  and  further  into  the  cave  until 


FREE  AT  LAST 215 

I  was  in  nearly  complete  darkness,  but  the  dimmest 
rays  of  light  coming  in  from  the  entrance.  I  felt  the 
side  of  the  cave  and  came  to  a  place  where  water 
trickled  down  rather  fast,  so  that  I  determined  to  re- 
main there  so  that  I  should  not  suffer  from  thirst.  A 
yard  or  so  further  on  I  found  that  the  ground  was 
fairly  dry.  The  floor  of  the  cave,  at  this  place,  was 
strewn  with  a  great  deal  of  old  rubbish.  Among 
other  things  were  some  sacks,  that  had  perhaps  served 
to  bring  in  the  earth  and  compost  used  for  growing 
the  mushrooms.  Fearing  to  be  discovered  I  lay  down 
against  the  wall  and  pulled  a  lot  of  this  stuff  over  my- 
self until  I  was  nearly  buried  in  it. 

I  lay  there  for  perhaps  an  hour,  hearing  vague 
sounds  outside,  from  time  to  time.  Later  on  these 
were  more  distinct,  and  several  times  I  saw  shadows 
passing  in  front  of  the  opening.  They  were  search- 
ing for  me,  I  was  certain  now  and  my  heart  beat  again 
fast  with  the  tenseness  of  my  situation.  They  had 
searched  under  the  canvas  of  the  tent,  not  being  sure 
that  I  had  been  killed,  and  when  they  failed  to  find 
me  they  hastened  to  hunt  for  me.  It  was  fortunate 
for  me  that  they  carried  no  lights,  as  finally  they  en- 
tered the  cave,  groping  around  it,  poking  in  nooks 
and  comers  with  their  guns  and  bayonets.  Finally  a 
couple  of  them  reached  within  a  yard  or  two  of  where 
I  was,  expecting  every  moment  to  be  discovered. 
They  felt  the  rubbish  under  their  feet,  and  actually 


216      FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

pulled  away  at  some  of  it  and  poked  into  it  with  their 
bayonets.  I  heard  some  of  the  old  decayed  sacking 
that  was  over  me  tearing  away,  and  I  held  my  breath. 
But  the  man  rose  from  his  crouching  position,  evi- 
dently satisfied  that  I  was  not  there.  Slowly  they 
moved  away  and  I  saw  them  going  out  through  the 
mouth  of  the  cave,  perhaps  thirty  or  forty  yards  away. 
Fortunately  for  me  I  did  not  move,  for  perhaps  a 
half  an  hour  later  they  came  again.  This  time,  how- 
ever, they  did  not  search  much.  I  could  see  that  they 
had  brought  in  something  rather  bulky,  which  they 
laid  down  on  the  floor  of  the  cave.  Later  on  they  re- 
turned for  whatever  this  was.  For  a  few  minutes  they 
stood  there,  talking  excitedly  among  themselves,  and 
finally  left  for  good.  After  this  the  passage  of  time 
was  hardly  in  my  power  to  estimate.  It  seemed  to 
me  that  many  hours  went  by,  but  I  was  still  afraid  to 
move  out  of  the  cave.  Finally  thirst  compelled  me  to 
move  to  where  the  water  was  running  down  the  wall. 
In  the  hollow  of  my  left  hand,  used  over  and  over 
again,  I  collected  enough  to  slake  my  thirst.  By  this 
time  I  felt  that  I  was  burning  with  fever.  I  had 
to  keep  on  wetting  my  hand  and  passing  it  over  my 
brow  and  face.  In  spite  of  my  burning  temperature 
I  felt  hungry  and  ate  some  of  the  damp  bread  I  had 
picked  up,  that  must  have  been  plentifully  seasoned 
with  dirt.  The  rats  that  were  scurrying  about,  con- 
stantly, would  doubtless  gladly  have  shared  my  feast. 


FREE  AT  LAST  217 


Later  on,  when  this  small  provision  was  exhausted, 
I  groped  about  for  remnants  of  mushrooms,  of  which 
I  found  a  few,  since  some  of  them  will  keep  on  com- 
ing out  even  upon  beds  that  have  been  abandoned  for 
some  time.  I  ate  these  things,  hungrily  enough,  for 
all  their  earthy  and  rather  unpleasant  taste. 

The  mouth  of  the  cave  grew  darker  and  darker,  till 
finally  I  could  no  longer  distinguish  it,  and  knew  that 
the  night  had  come.  I  tried  hard  to  sleep.  Nearly 
always,  however,  as  soon  as  I  lost  consciousness  I 
would  be  awakened  again  by  a  terrible  pain  in  my 
arm.  Then  the  thought  of  my  poor  Freddie  would 
return  to  harrow  my  feelings  and  1  would  picture  the 
misery  and  anxiety  in  my  home  in  Gouvieux,  till  I 
felt  that  my  mind  must  give  way. 

A  few  times,  as  I  lay  awake,  I  could  hear  the  rats 
licking  up  the  water,  but  they  did  not  molest  me  in  any 
way,  nor  was  I  afraid  of  them,  for  the  dangers  I  had 
undergone  were  too  great  for  me  to  think  of  such 
trivial  things  as  rat-bites. 

In  the  morning  I  struggled  up  and  shook  some  of 
the  rubbish  off  me,  taking  a  long  drink.  My  arm 
seemed  to  hurt  about  as  badly  as  ever,  and  my  fever 
had  left  me  and  given  way  to  a  terrible  chilliness.  I 
crept  to  the  mouth  of  the  cave,  after  listening  for  some 
time,  and  looked  around,  carefully,  just  putting  my 
head  out.  Seeing  no  one  I  finally  stood  up.  When  I 
looked  at  myself  I  was  shocked  at  my  condition.     My 


218      FRED  MITCHELL'S  WAR  STORY 

unshaven  face  I  could  not  see,  of  course,  but  my  filthy 
hands,  my  clothing  utterly  hidden  by  grime,  made  me 
feel  like  the  sorriest  tramp  that  ever  slept  under  a 
hedge. 

For  a  time  I  sat  outside,  having  seen  or  heard  no 
one,  and  wondered  whether  I  had  better  try  to  get 
away  from  this  place,  in  which  nothing  but  starvation 
could  be  looked  forward  to.  After  perhaps  a  half  an 
hour  I  heard  shooting,  that  seemed  to  draw  nearer 
and  nearer.  This  led  me  to  get  back  to  my  place  of 
concealment.  The  firing  presently,  seemed  to  be  tak- 
ing place  very  near  me.  I  saw  shadows  swiftly  pass- 
ing in  front  of  the  opening. 

Suddenly,  as  I  finally  crept  back  a  little  nearer,  I 
heard  a  voice  that  caused  my  heart  to  leap. 

"Never  mind  me,  lads,  go  on  and  give  them  hell!'* 

Yet  I  dared  not  go  out,  as  the  shooting  was  still 
violent  and  I  feared  that  my  sudden  appearance  might 
be  taken  for  that  of  a  Hun  and  greeted  by  a  bullet. 
But  I  came  nearer  the  entrance.  A  few  moments 
later  some  of  the  Tommies  came  in.  I  stood  close  to 
the  wall  and  shouted : 

"Don't  shoot,  lads,  I'm  English!" 

"Here's  the  boy's  father!"  yelled  one  of  them. 

At  this  I  staggered  out,  half  crazed  with  joy  and 
yet  fearing  to  hear  bad  news  of  Freddie.  A  number 
of  Germans  were  lying  dead  on  the  ground  and,  I  re- 
gret to  say,  three  Englishmen,  of  whom  one  was  a 


FREE  AT  LAST 219 

captain,  so  badly  wounded  that  he  soon  died,  and  two 
men  less  grievously  hurt. 

One  of  the  men  came  running  to  me. 

"My  God !"  he  yelled.  "Look  at  what  they've  done 
to  that  boy's  poor  father!" 

Indeed  I  must  have  been  a  sight. 

"What  do  you  know  about  my  boy?"  I  cried. 
"What's  happened  to  him?     Tell  me  quick!" 

They  told  me  that  they  had  seen  a  boy  flying  down 
a  road  on  a  bicycle  and  had  stopped  him.  He  had 
answered  them  in  English.  He  was  terribly  excited 
and  could  only  stammer,  they  said.  His  story  was 
that  his  father  had  been  taken  prisoner  and  was  kept 
separated  from  him.  Then  the  Germans  had  sent 
him  again  down  the  road,  following  him.  He  had 
reached  a  place  where  there  was  a  cross  road.  On 
one  side  it  led  down  a  steep  long  hill.  The  soldier 
following  him  was  some  distance  away,  so  he  had 
dashed  down,  pedalling  for  dear  life,  and  had  kept  on 
going  till  the  English,  with  some  French  soldiers 
among  them,  had  halted  him  on  the  road.  He  care- 
fully described  the  place  where  I  was  being  held  and 
gave  minute  directions  in  regard  to  reaching  it,  telling 
also  all  about  the  Germans  there,  their  number  and 
what  they  had  been  doing. 

I  heard  afterwards  that  a  French  soldier  had 
handed  him  a  bottle  containing  some  wine  and  water 
and  that  an  Englishman  had  given  him  a  tin  of  bully- 


220      FRED  MITCHELrS  WAR  STORY 

beef.  Then  they  had  told  him  that  they  would  try 
to  rescue  his  dad  but  that  he  had  better  go  on  his 
way  as  fast  as  he  could  for  they  expected  some  fight- 
ing at  any  moment. 

The  men  who  found  me  at  the  cave  were  kindness 
itself.  One  of  them  gave  me  some  biscuit  and  an- 
other brought  me  water.  After  this  they  told  me  to 
wait  a  little,  questioning  me  in  regard  to  what  I  had 
undergone.  Soon  afterwards  they  took  me  a  short 
distance  and  showed  me  a  little  valley,  at  the  bottom 
of  which  I  should  find  a  gun-carriage.  On  reaching 
this  I  was  to  tell  the  men  to  take  me  along  with  them 
till  they  were  near  the  village  of  Mercin  where  they 
would  leave  me  to  walk  a  short  distance  while  they 
went  on  to  a  cantonment  whence  they  were  to  bring 
back  stretchers  and  a  wagon  for  the  wounded. 

I  thanked  my  rescuers  how  fervently  I  need  not 
say,  and  started  to  the  gun-carriage,  perhaps  a  couple 
of  hundred  yards  away.  Two  Frenchmen  were  in 
charge.  Four  mules  were  harnessed  to  this  affair, 
which  started  at  a  good  fast  trot,  one  of  the  men 
sitting  beside  me  with  an  arm  about  my  waist,  fearing 
that  in  my  weakened  condition  I  should  not  be  able  to 
hold  on.  The  jolting  was  fiendish  and  the  torture  of 
it  makes  me  shudder  to  this  day,  but  we  covered  the 
ground  fast  and,  after  going  some  four  or  five  miles, 
we  stopped.  I  could  see  the  village  in  a  valley  below 
me,  perhaps  four  hundred  yards  away.     I  thanked 


FREE  AT  LAST 221 

the  men  and  started  down  a  footpath.  In  spite  of 
pain  and  exhaustion  I  was  filled  with  joy  at  the  idea 
that  my  boy  was  safe.  This,  I  think,  gave  me  greater 
happiness  than  anything  else  I  ever  experienced,  and 
I  managed  to  walk  fairly  briskly  down  to  Mercin, 
holding  on  to  my  arm  which  I  had  slung  in  a  bit  of  the 
chain  I  still  had  to  bear  along,  and  which  I  had 
passed  over  my  shoulder. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

HOME 

In  Mercin  I  went  up  the  steps  of  the  Mairie  and  sat 
down  on  the  top  one,  for  a  moment's  rest  till  the  pain 
that  had  become  so  shrewd  during  my  trip  on  the  car- 
riage should  quiet  down  a  little. 

An  old  gentleman  with  a  long  white  beard  came  out 
of  the  building  and  asked  me  where  I  came  from  and 
what  had  happened  to  me.  This  I  explained,  briefly, 
and  he  took  me  across  the  little  square  into  a  sort  of 
cafe.  Within  it  was  an  old  couple.  The  man  went 
off  on  some  errand  but  his  wife  treated  me  with  a 
kindness  I  shall  never  forget.  She  loosened  the  band 
I  had  tied  about  my  forearm,  and  exclaimed  in  horror 
at  the  sight  of  the  bones  all  askew. 

"It's  broken!"  she  cried. 

The  dear  old  lady  went  off  and  got  some  water,  with 
which  she  washed  my  face  and  hands,  as  best  she 
could.  It  was  no  small  undertaking.  When  this  was 
finished  she  got  some  strips  of  strong  cardboard  with 
which  she  made  splints  of  a  sort,  wrapping  them 
around  with  wet  paper  which  she  covered  over  with  a 
bandage  torn  from  an  old  tablecloth.     Her  hard  and 

222 


HOME  223 


gnarled  fingers  were  not  very  skilful,  but  their  ten- 
derness and  gentleness  with  which  her  poor  shaky 
hands  toiled  for  me  was  very  wonderful.  She  gave 
me  hot  coffee  and  a  bit  of  black  bread,  which  I  de- 
voured thankfully.  She  insisted  on  my  telling  her 
some  of  my  experiences  and  her  kindness  had  been 
such  that  I  could  not  possibly  refuse.  In  the  midst 
of  my  tale  a  young  man  entered,  calling  for  gasoline 
but  hardly  expecting  to  be  able  to  find  any.  He  was 
in  the  uniform  of  an  aviator,  all  wrapped  up  in  the 
heaviest  clothing,  and  had  just  landed  in  a  neighbour- 
ing field.  His  face,  I  thought,  was  somewhat  fa- 
miliar. 

"Why!  Is  that  you,  Mitchell?"  he  suddenly  cried 
in  French. 

I  recognized  him  as  a  former  acquaintance  in  an 
automobile  factory  in  Paris.  To  his  delighted  sur- 
prise he  was  able  to  obtain  the  gasoline  he  needed. 
The  old  lady  had  been  volubly  explaining  to  him  my 
troubles  and  sufferings,  and  he  asked  me  how  I  ex- 
pected to  get  home. 

I  answered  that  the  Germans  had  my  bicycle  and 
had  naturally  confiscated  the  money  in  my  pockets 
when  they  had  searched  me,  so  that  I  supposed  there 
was  nothing  left  for  me  but  walk  and  beg  for  food 
on  the  way. 

"You've  flown  a  number  of  times,  haven't  you?" 
he  asked  me. 


224       FRED  MITCHELL'S  WAR  STORY 

I  answered  that  I  had. 

"Will  you  risk  it?" 

I  was  only  too  delighted  at  that  offer.  He  begged 
me  never  to  say  who  had  taken  me  up,  since  it  was 
strictly  forbidden  and  he  would  not  have  thought  of 
doing  it  if  I  had  not  been  in  such  a  terrible  plight. 

His  machine  was  soon  supplied  with  the  gasoline 
he  had  procured.  He  strapped  me  across  the  thighs 
and  breast,  after  which  he  started  his  motor  and 
climbed  in.  A  few  seconds  later  we  were  off.  I  had 
fervently  thanked  the  dear  old  lady.  Thank  Heaven! 
There  were  no  ruts  or  rough  spots  in  this  ride.  He 
made  a  few  detours  around  places  where  we  would 
have  been  likely  to  be  saluted  by  German  anti- 
aircraft guns,  and  in  about  an  hour  made  a  smooth 
landing  on  the  course  in  Chantilly  known  as  "Les 
Aigles."  He  unstrapped  me  and  helped  me  out  and 
V.  before  a  crowd  could  assemble  he  was  up  in  the  air 
again  and  on  his  way  to  Paris. 

I  walked  off  down  the  Gouvieux  hill,  meeting  a 
couple  of  young  stable-boys  on  bicycles  who  stopped, 
astounded,  and  asked  if  I  was  Mr.  Mitchell.  I  con- 
firmed their  well-founded  suspicion  and  they  said 
they  had  heard  I  was  a  prisoner,  to  which  I  answered 
that  I  was  one  no  longer.  I  was  too  anxious  to  go  on 
to  stop  for  any  conversation. 

The  old  doctor  in  Gouvieux  had  returned  there  and 
I  immediately  went  up  to  his  house.     His  astonish- 


HOME  225 


ment  at  seeing  me  was  unbounded.  He  also  thought 
me  a  prisoner,  or  more  probably  a  dead  man.  I  must 
have  looked  rather  badly  for  he  rushed  off  for  a  glass 
of  claret  for  me.  After  I  had  swallowed  this  he  did 
his  best  to  set  the  broken  bones,  causing  me  indescrib- 
able pain,  and  splinted  and  bandaged  my  arm.  I  was 
eager  to  go  home  at  once  but  he  wouldn't  hear  of  it. 

"It's  going  to  be  a  terrible  shock  to  them  to  see  you 
in  this  condition,"  he  told  me.  "Let  me  send  word  to 
them  that  you  are  saved,  and  in  the  meanwhile  you 
can  rest  a  little  and  have  something  to  eat  with  me." 

We  had  something  to  eat,  of  which  I  had  stood  in 
great  need,  and  as  we  were  eating  he  happened  to  see 
my  daughter  passing  in  front  of  his  house.  He  left 
me  in  the  dining  room  and  called  out  to  her  that  he 
wanted  to  see  her. 

"Have  you  heard  from  your  father,  my  child?" 
asked  the  good  old  man. 

"No,"  answered  Florence.  "Mamma  says  we 
shall  never  see  him  again." 

At  this  she  began  to  weep  and  the  doctor  put  his 
hand  on  her  head. 

"I'm  sure  you  will  see  him  again,"  he  assured  her. 
"You  will  see  that  he  will  certainly  get  back." 

"Mamma  told  Freddie  it  was  his  fault  that  Daddy 
was  dead,"  she  cried  again.  "He  was  always  want- 
ing father  to  go  off  and  hunt  for  relics  and  see  the 
battle-grounds." 


226      FRED  MITCHELLS  WAR  STORY 

"You're  going  to  see  your  father  very  soon,"  he 
told  her  again.  "You're  going  to  see  him,  I  give  you 
my  word." 

"He's  been  taken  a  prisoner  so  often,"  said  the 
child.     "This  time  they  will  never  let  him  go." 

He  told  her  again  that  she  would  see  me  very  soon, 
in  fact,  in  a  minute  or  two,  and  gave  me  a  signal  to 
come  in.  I  entered  the  room.  At  first  she  was  un- 
able to  recognize  me,  owing  to  my  face  that  had  been 
unshaven  so  long,  but  finally,  crying  out  her  joy,  she 
rushed  to  me  and  put  her  arms  about  me.  The  child 
wept  and  laughed  at  the  same  time  and  her  delight 
showed  clearly  that  all  hope  of  ever  seeing  me  again 
had  been  abandoned  in  my  home. 

A  boy  on  a  bicycle,  one  of  the  two  I  had  met  on 
the  way  to  the  doctor's,  chanced  to  pass  by  and  the 
doctor  called  him. 

"Please  go  over  to  Mr.  Mitchell's  house  and  get 
Freddie,  but  say  nothing  to  his  mother,"  the  old  gen- 
tleman asked  him. 

The  lad  started  in  a  hurry  and  rang  the  bell  at  my 
home.  My  wife  answered  it  and  the  little  chap  asked 
for  Freddie. 

"What  do  you  want  him  for?"  asked  my  wife. 

"I  have  a  commission  for  him  from  Chantilly,"  an- 
swered the  lad. 

My  wife  called  Freddie  and  the  boy  drew  him 
apart. 


HOME  227 


"The  doctor  wants  you  at  his  house,"  said  the  mes- 
senger, in  a  low  voice.  "I — I  think  your  father  has 
come  back." 

But  my  wife  overheard  a  little  of  this  and  rushed 
up  to  them. 

"What  is  that  you  said?"  she  asked,  excitedly. 

"Well — I — I  thought  I  saw  Mr.  Mitchell  come  down 
in  an  aeroplane  on  the  Aigles,"  replied  the  boy. 

"Run  quick  and  see,  Freddie!"  she  exclaimed.  "I 
dreamt  last  night  that  I  saw  your  father  coming  home 
in  an  aeroplane." 

Freddie  came  running  up  just  as  I  came  out  and 
stood  on  the  door-sill.     He  rushed  at  me  and  kissed 


me. 


Dear  Dad!  How  did  you  ever  manage  to  get 
away?"  he  cried. 

The  boy  was  beside  himself  with  joy.  We  walked 
home  and  as  he  jostled  me  a  little  Florrie  called  out 
to  him  to  be  careful  on  account  of  my  arm,  and  imme- 
diately he  questioned  me  about  that,  eagerly. 

I  need  say  little  about  my  return  home.  It  seemed 
a  place  little  nearer  Heaven  than  any  I  had  ever  en- 
tered before,  and  my  wife's  joy  and  emotion  I  cannot 
describe. 

A  cup  of  tea  was  brewed  for  me  at  once,  and  be- 
tween sips  I  had  to  tell  my  experiences.  I  was  ever 
so  anxious  to  hear  Freddie's  account  of  his  adven- 
tures, but  I  was  not  given  a  chance.     My  good  friends 


228      FRED  MITCHELL^S  WAR  STORY 

of  the  village  trooped  in,  the  good  Cure  foremost 
among  them,  and  almost  smothered  me  in  their  joy 
at  my  return. 

"I  told  them  all  to  have  faith,"  said  the  priest.  "I 
prayed  so  hard  that  you  be  allowed  to  come  back,  and 
asked  the  people  in  church  to  pray  also.  I  knew  we 
would  see  you  again!" 

After  they  left  I  had  to  submit  not  only  to  more 
demonstration  of  joy  and  affection  but  also  to  a  little 
scolding  for  my  rashness  in  venturing  so  far. 

It  was  only  in  the  morning  that  I  was  able  to  go 
off  into  the  paddocks  and  hear  from  Freddie  all  about 
his  experiences. 

"After  I  left  you  on  the  second  morning,"  he  told 
me,  "I  was  watching  a  chance  to  escape,  since  you 
had  begged  me  to  do  so  if  I  could  manage  it.  The 
Germans  had  another  camp  some  distance  away  and, 
in  order  to  go  there,  they  had  to  pass  over  an  open 
road.  They  were  afraid  to  draw  the  fire  of  French  or 
English  troops  that  might  be  about,  and  didn't  want 
them  to  know  they  were  there.  So  I  was  made  to  take 
messages  and  things  back  and  forth.  The  French 
would  think  I  was  just  some  French  peasant  boy  and 
make  sure  that  everything  was  all  right,  since  I  was 
not  molested.  They  sent  me  twice  to  Mercin  to  get 
tobacco  for  them.  The  only  kind  there  was  was  some 
terrible  chewing-tobacco  some  of  the  old  peasants 
used.     The  Germans  called  it  "Kill  At  Two  Hundred 


HOME  229 


Yards,"  but  were  glad  enough  to  have  it.  I  looked 
at  that  hill  as  I  went  by  it,  and  felt  that  a  fellow  ought 
to  go  a  mile  a  minute  down  that  steep  road.  With  a 
good  start  nothing  could  catch  one  on  such  a  grade. 
I  made  up  my  mind  that  the  next  chance  I  had  to  try  it 
I  would  just  make  a  dash  for  it.  You  can't  believe 
what  cowards  those  Germans  are,  Dad,  when  they 
think  that  some  one  may  shoot  at  them.  They  never 
dared  to  show  themselves  on  the  open  road  unless  I 
was  ahead  of  them.  If  all  the  men  in  that  army  were 
like  that  it  would  be  little  trouble  to  lick  them. 

"So  my  chance  came  and  I  got  away.  They  had 
told  me  that  if  I  tried  to  escape  there  would  be  a  lot 
of  Germans  farther  on  who  would  get  me  and  kill  me. 
But  it  was  the  only  chance  there  was.  They  didn't 
see  me  turn  sharp  to  one  side  and  fly  down  that  hill. 
I  expected  to  hear  bullets  whizzing  after  me,  but  they 
never  shot.  The  fellow  who  had  come  behind  me  had 
stopped  at  the  side  of  the  road  to  wait  for  me.  I  hope 
he's  waiting  yet,  Dad. 

"And  then  when  I  got  to  the  bottom  of  the  hill  I 
was  just  flying,  and  a  little  farther  on  I  heard  the 
order  to  halt  and  made  up  my  mind  that  everything 
was  up  with  me,  and  that  they  would  shoot  me  at  once. 
But  when  I  found  that  they  were  English  and  French 
I  was  nearly  crazy  with  joy.  So  I  told  them  all  I 
knew,  and  they  gave  me  something  to  eat  and  I  rode 
on,  fast  as  I  could.     So  I  went  on  to  Compiegne  and 


230       FRED  MITCHELL'S  WAR  STORY 

rode  through  it,  but  it  was  getting  late  and  there  was 
some  people  at  a  little  village  on  the  other  side. 
They  were  awfully  good  to  me,  and  gave  me  some- 
thing to  eat  and  a  bed  in  the  house.  They  woke  me 
up  very  early,  and  one  of  them  fixed  up  my  bike  and 
oiled  it  all  ready  for  me  to  start,  while  I  was  having 
something  to  eat.  So  I  thanked  them  and  started  off 
again,  riding  as  fast  as  I  could,  and  got  here  early. 
I  was  glad  enough  to  escape,  of  course.  Dad,  but  I 
felt  terrible  to  think  that  you  were  still  therCj  and  that 
perhaps  they  had  killed  you. 

"You  ought  to  have  seen  how  excited  every  one  was 
when  I  got  back.  Dad.  It  made  them  feel  that  per- 
haps you  would  be  able  to  get  away  too.  Of  course  I 
had  to  tell  Mamma  everything,  and  how  they  treated 
you,  and  she  felt  awfully  about  it  and  cried,  dread- 
fully." 

Thus  I  heard  my  plucky  boy's  tale.  Many  lads 
have  had  strange  happenings  in  this  war,  and  many 
have  indeed  lost  their  lives,  but  I  think  I  may  say  that 
few  could  have  acted  with  greater  courage  and  with 
better  judgment. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

AFTER  ALL 

After  a  while  the  pain  began  to  diminish  in  my 
arm,  and  in  good  time  I  could  ride  a  bicycle  again, 
using  the  one  belonging  to  my  wife.  The  trips  I  be- 
gan again  to  bring  back  from  Paris  many  necessary 
things  were  taken  on  the  train,  of  course. 

A  short  three  miles  away  from  us  there  was  estab- 
lished a  hospital  in  Lies,  in  a  large  castle  there.  The 
staff  of  doctors,  the  nurses,  the  drivers  of  ambulances, 
were  all  women.  The  place  had  been  opened  by 
General  French's  sister,  who  subsequently  went  to 
Salonica  where  I  believe  she  was  seriously  wounded. 

The  ambulances  were  constantly  passing  through 
our  village  now,  and  sometimes  stopped  at  our  door. 
The  sight  of  all  the  poor  wounded  was  a  sad  one,  that 
we  could  never  get  accustomed  pr  callous  to.  I  have 
seen  blood  dropping  from  the  automobile  ambulances 
as  they  passed,  and  the  moans  of  the  wounded  were 
painful  indeed  to  hear. 

I  was  able  to  undertake  some  little  commissions 
for  this  devoted  band  of  workers,  in  Paris  and  else- 

231 


232       FRED  MITCHELL^S  WAR  STORY 

where,  and  often  had  occasion  to  visit  the  hospital, 
where  splendid  work  was  being  done.  When  I  left 
they  had  about  eight  hundred  beds  occupied,  and  I 
heard  that  these  women  surgeons  were  undertaking 
and  carrying  through  brilliantly  some  very  wonderful 
operations.  The  convalescents  were  loud  in  praise 
of  the  care  and  treatment  they  had  received. 

The  close  shave  we  had  on  our  trip  through  Com- 
piegne  did  not  altogether  cure  my  boy  and  myself  of 
the  desire  to  keep  on  seeing  something  of  the  country 
towards  the  battle-lines,  and  it  may  be  that  at  some 
further  time  our  further  adventures  may  be  toldj^ 
should  they  prove  of  sufficient  interest.  The  cold 
weather  was  at  hand  and  our  poor  people  began  to 
suffer  severely  from  the  lack  of  provisions  and  the 
scarcity  of  fuel.  A  great  many  of  the  trees  that  had 
been  blasted  by  the  artillery  fire  all  through  the  coun- 
try were  cut  up  for  fire-wood,  and  helped  out  the  situ- 
ation to  some  extent,  but,  naturally  enough,  the  facili- 
ties for  transportation  were  poor  indeed.  A  few  of 
the  houses  and  chateaux  had  a  stock  of  coal,  laid  in 
before  the  outbreak  of  the  war,  but  no  more  could 
be  procured,  at  any  price.  Many  of  the  better  class 
of  dwellings  were  tenantless  because  they  had  been 
so  looted  and  bespoiled  that,  in  the  absence  of  avail- 
able labour,  they  could  not  be  put  in  order.  The 
majority  of  my  friends,  as  well  as  myself,  had  no  coal 
whatever  on  hand,  and  suffered  keenly  that  winter. 


AFTER  ALL  233 


The  food  question  became  very  acute,  for  the  blowing 
up  of  bridges  and  the  destruction  of  roads  caused  rail- 
road communications  to  be  kept  up  with  the  greatest 
difl5culty.  I  was  fortunate  enough  to  procure  a  load 
of  coke,  which  helped  us  out  greatly  during  the  cold 
weather. 

Eventually  the  General  Staff  became  established  in 
Chantilly,  which  soon  became  a  busier  place  than  it 
had  ever  been  in  peace  times.  Soldiers  on  bicycles, 
in  automobiles,  and  even  in  aeroplanes,  scurried 
through,  carrying  messages  and  delivering  orders. 
Uniforms  of  all  countries  were  in  evidence.  No  one 
was  allowed  to  land  in  the  place  without  a  special 
passport  from  Paris,  and  all  arrivals  were  closely 
scrutinized. 

The  Germans,  of  course,  were  not  long  in  ignorance 
of  the  General  Staff's  location.  Chantilly  was  in  the 
main  line  of  direct  travel  from  Paris  to  the  east  and 
northeast,  and  aeroplanes  began  to  come  over  us  very 
frequently.  Aerial  combats  between  the  Boches  and 
French  and  English  were  sometimes  of  daily  occur- 
rence. Bombing  of  our  villages  was  industriously 
kept  up  and  the  populations  lived  with  their  hearts  in 
their  mouths.  In  the  evening  the  firemen's  alarm  bell 
would  sometimes  toll  out  a  warning.  This  meant  that 
Zeppelins  had  been  sighted  on  their  baby-killing  ex- 
peditions. They  were  not  chary  of  dropping  their 
missiles  anywhere,  however,  and  the  tolling  was  a 


234       FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

signal  for  the  people  to  seek  shelter  in  caves  and  cel- 
lars. 

Our  lights  were  ordered  to  be  all  out  by  six  o'clock 
in  the  evening,  and  woe-betide  the  neglectful  house- 
wife who  failed  to  obey.  Aeroplanes  would  sight  the 
offending  lamp  or  candle  and  presently  an  automobile 
would  come  around.  Fines  and  even  imprisonment 
were  rigorously  imposed. 

One  evening  we  were  greatly  surprised  to  hear  a 
disturbance  at  our  door.  The  bell  was  rung  and  men 
rushed  in  and  asked  whether  we  had  a  light  burning. 
We  assured  them  that  we  had  not,  and  they  searched 
for  a  moment.  I  suggested  other  places  they  might 
look  over  and  advised  them  to  go  around  at  the  other 
side  of  the  church.  One  of  these  men  was  an  avia- 
tor, and  I  asked  him  to  come  out  in  my  paddocks, 
where  perhaps  he  could  locate  somewhat  better  the 
position  of  the  lights  which  he  had  seen.  He  fol- 
lowed me  there  and  looked  about  him. 

"I'm  afraid  I'll  have  to  give  up  the  search  tonight," 
he  said,  "but  I  see  that  I  am  not  on  the  proper  side  of 
the  church. 

He  asked  me  to  walk  with  him  around  the  church, 
which  I  was  only  too  glad  to  do,  and  had  a  long  look 
around.  The  errand  was  fruitless,  however,  and 
nothing  was  discovered.  For  several  nights  he  tried 
and  saw  the  offending  lights  again  from  his  plane. 
The  spies  at  work,  however,  could  see  the  plane  and 


AFTER  ALL  235 


watch  it  come  down.  This  was  a  signal  for  them  to 
disappear.  At  last  my  acquaintance  sent  another 
man  to  perform  the  same  evolutions  and  entered  a 
place  we  had  suspected  while  the  machine  was  yet 
high  up  in  the  air.  He  found  two  men  at  work  on  a 
wireless  apparatus,  who  were  immediately  taken  off 
to  Chantilly  and  there  doubtless  disposed  of  according 
to  the  laws  of  warfare. 

Such  incidents  were  frequent  all  over  France,  as 
well  as  in  every  other  allied  country.  I  believe  that 
they  have  not  been  unknown  in  America.  Spying, 
with  the  Germans,  had  undoubtedly  engaged  the  serv- 
ices of  some  of  the  best  brains  among  them.  It 
doubtless  requires  no  small  degree  of  courage  for 
those  who  are  caught  at  it  generally  get  a  very  short 
shrift.  But  it  is  characteristic  of  the  nation  that  their 
best  men  should  always  be  at  work,  toiling  away  at 
all  forms  of  deceit  and  ever  conspiring,  during  peace- 
times and  in  war,  to  bring  about  the  undoing  of  other 
nations.  None — absolutely  none  are  safe  from  them, 
at  any  time. 

The  food  question  became  more  and  more  urgent, 
and  I  was  having  an  exceedingly  hard  time  to  find 
enough  to  keep  my  poor  animals  from  starving  to 
death.  Fortunately,  some  of  the  people  who  had 
left  their  pets  with  me  came  back  for  them,  so  that 
the  number  I  had  to  look  out  for  diminished.  Strict 
rationing  of  the  people  became  the  order  of  the  day. 


236      FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

Only  so  much  could  be  obtained  for  each  person. 
The  secretary  at  the  Mairie  told  me  that  I  must  get 
rid  of  most  of  my  dogs,  since  such  animals  used  food 
that  could  serve  to  keep  human  beings  alive. 

I  recognized  the  necessity  for  such  orders,  but  the 
command  was  a  heart-breaking  one,  after  the  terrible 
toil  I  had  endured  in  my  effort  to  save  them.  Not 
only  were  they  real  friends  but  they  also  represented 
most  of  my  little  fortune,  which  I  had  invested  in  the 
very  finest  specimens  of  many  breeds,  many  of  them 
well-known  prize-winners.  This  was  a  period  of 
black  misery  for  me.  Day  by  day  I  was  compelled 
to  pick  out  the  poor  things  and  chloroform  them  to 
death  till  I  had  killed  some  forty  of  them.  It  was  a 
task  that  actually  made  me  shed  tears  to  have  to  dig 
trenches  and  bury  them.  I  went  around  in  the  coun- 
try and  in  the  villages  to  beg  bits  of  bread  that  could 
be  spared  by  the  soldiers  and  others,  and  bring  them 
back  with  me  to  the  kennels.  Potato-peelings,  odd 
bits  of  vegetables,  bones  already  picked  nearly  clean, 
went  into  the  pots  where  I  tried  to  make  some  sort 
of  soup  with  which  I  could  keep  the  remainder  alive. 
The  largest  animals  naturally  had  the  largest  appe- 
tites, so  that  they  were  sacrificed  first.  Finally,  hav- 
ing twenty  of  them  left,  I  went  to  Garches,  near  St. 
Cloud,  taking  them  over  in  an  auto-truck.  The  place 
is  on  the  other  side  of  Paris,  and  a  Canadian  camp 


AFTER  ALL  237 


had  been  established  there.  For  a  time  I  was  able 
to  get  a  little  refuse  food  from  the  kitchens  of  this 
large  cantonment,  but  after  a  while  even  this  source 
of  supply  failed  me,  and  I  had  to  kill  off  more  of  my 
dogs  until  but  eight  were  left  out  of  eighty-seven  that 
I  had  actually  owned.  These  eight  were  left  to  be 
taken  care  of  by  some  one  else,  when  I  came  to  Amer- 
ica. The  latest  news  I  have  is  to  the  effect  that  but 
one  of  them  remains. 

Thus  I  was  compelled  to  kill  and  inter  most  of  what 
represented  the  savings  of  years.  It  was  probably 
the  hardest  and  shrewdest  blow  of  all. 

I  came  to  the  United  States  with  the  hope  of  making 
arrangement  for  a  series  of  exhibitions  for  the  benefit 
of  the  Red  Cross.  My  plans  have  met  with  many 
unforeseen  delays  and  I  have  used  some  of  my  en- 
forced leisure  in  bringing  together  the  materials  for 
this  book.  I  said  in  the  beginning  that  I  could  not 
put  down  one-tenth  of  the  horrors  I  have  seen  and 
experienced.  The  great  majority  of  the  events  re- 
lated here  occurred  in  the  presence  of  a  large  enough 
number  of  witnesses  to  make  it  easy  for  me  to  corrobo- 
rate nearly  everything  that  I  have  put  down. 

I  feel  compelled  to  give  a  single  instance,  however, 
of  the  hundreds  of  incidents  I  have  been  compelled 
to  keep  out  of  these  pages.  In  a  little  village  some 
thirty  miles  away  from  my  home,  which  was  occu- 


238       FRED  MITCHELUS  WAR  STORY 

pied  by  Germans,  a  horror  stricken  man  told  me  to 
glance  into  a  butcher's  shop,  without  pretending  to 
do  so,  if  I  could  help  it. 

The  Boches  had  slaughtered  many  sheep  and  had 
the  carcasses  hanging  up  in  the  shop.  Among  them 
I  saw  a  dead  naked  baby  boy  depending  from  one  of 
the  meathooks,  hanging  with  his  poor  little  head 
down. 

I  am  quite  sure  that  the  only  object  of  the  Huns 
in  doing  this  was  to  impress  the  inhabitants  with  terror 
at  their  savagery — but  this  is  the  sort  of  thing  I  have 
seen  with  my  own  eyes. 

In  my  time  I  have  ridden  some  five  hundred  win- 
ning horses  and  yet  have  never  wagered  a  penny.  I 
have  always  been  known  as  a  temperate  and  trust- 
worthy man  and  I  hope  to  win  races  again.  I  cannot 
afford  to  have  my  honesty  and  integrity  doubted.  In 
the  tales  I  have  told  there  is  the  truth  and  nothing  but 
the  truth,  mitigated  in  most  instances  so  that  this 
should  not  be  deemed  a  volume  of  horrors.  The  peo- 
ple who  disbelieve  me  will  be  of  the  kind  who  refuse 
to  accept  evidence  of  any  sort.  It  is  fortunate  that 
they  can  be  but  few  in  numbers. 

I  met  one  decent  German,  and  only  one,  and  I  hope 
I  have  given  him  proper  credit  for  the  propriety  of 
his  conduct.  But  I  greatly  suspect  that  there  must 
have  been  truth  in  the  other  officer's  statement  that  he 
was  of  Alsatian  or  Lorraine  origin. 


AFTER  ALL  239 


It  is  a  new  form  of  warfare  that  we  are  beholding 
now,  in  which  savage  brutality  has  been  made  the 
chief  element  of  expected  victory.  Warriors  of  be- 
nighted countries  may  slay  women  and  children  dur- 
ing raids  on  an  enemy  village,  but  I  doubt  if  they 
usually  put  them  to  the  sword  after  the  coveted  hovels 
are  conquered.  It  remained  for  the  Huns  to  improve 
not  only  on  the  methods  of  their  forebears  but  also 
on  those  of  the  fiercest  tribes  of  the  dark  continents. 


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